


The French Flame

by orphan_account



Category: La Parure | The Necklace - Guy de Maupassant
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lesbian Sex, Smut, Sweet, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:19:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After realizing the necklace is fake, Mathilde needs comforting that turns into a realization of feelings she didn't know existed.
Relationships: Jeanne/Mathilde
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

“Oh, my poor Mathilde. But mine were false. At most they were worth five hundred francs!” Mathilde felt desperation, grief, that which one cannot put into words. “Oh, Mathilde. I despise the fact you put yourself through this. You are a changed woman! Come close.” She drew her arms around Mme. Loisel’s, pulling her into a hug of comfort and peace. Mathilde could feel Mme. Forester’s lithe body pressed against hers, the scent of the natural flowers in her hair, the pulsing of her heart. She was overcome—with a new feeling, one she had never felt, one that alighted into her mind in place of grief and pain, one that she could never have imagined before—and slid her hand down Mme. Forester’s back. She was pushed lightly away, Mme. Forester looking at her, with an eye of suspicion. Mathilde looked away, shame flooding her eyes and cheeks with a summery heat.   
“Come, let us have tea at my house.” Mathilde heard forgiveness in Mme. Forester’s voice. Maybe it was going to be alright. Maybe she felt the same way. Mathilde pushed the thought down. The feeling that overcame her in the Champs Elysées was...forbidden. Strange. There was no way Mme. Forester felt it too. Still, Mme. Loisel had to stay with her, for she could not possibly go home alone, the thoughts of grief towards the necklace would probably consume her waking thoughts. They walked down the lanes of Paris, Mathilde talking with the child, holding hands with both him and Mme. Forester. They reached Mme. Forester’s house, on rue de Baisers. Upon entry, Mathilde was overcome, Mme. Forester lost from her thoughts, for the moment. There was the cabinet, full of the jewels she could remember trying on all those years ago. The new necklace glittered in its box, shining in that pearlescent way, the way that had enticed her that night. She felt Mme. Forester’s guiding touch, shocking her out of her stupor and dragging her from the bittersweet reunion.  
“Come, sit! We have much to discuss.” After the child was sent away, they got to talking. Mme. Forester, still young, still beautiful, still seductive, talked with the dignified air of the higher class, the words thought out and precise, never spilling over into insults or anger. Mme. Loisel realized soon enough that ending their friendship was a huge mistake, for she was lost in Mme. Forester, with her low cut dress exposing her bust, slimming her waist, hinting at shoulders, velvety silk rippling with the tiniest shift of movement, her hair catching the sun that streamed through big, airy windows. It was a style Mme. Loisel craved to wear, for she craved to show herself to Mme. Forester, yet at the same time it was as if she desired Mme. Forester herself, not her dresses. She put her hand on Mme. Forester’s, feeling smooth skin, pale and rich like cream, so unlike hers, rough and raw from years of work. The touch was enough to spark the flame. Mme. Forester looked up, and the two women held eyes. Before Mme. Loisel knew it, she was moving, an indescribable motion of lust and desire, fueled by those glimmering eyes set in the regal face that was Mme. Forester. She was still grasping Mme. Forester’s hand, who drew her in close, feet becoming inches, and then they were next to each other on the same couch, hips pressed against one another’s, small whispers of “Why did I leave you?” and “I missed you.” and “Is this wrong?” and “Jeanne…” “Mathilde.” Their eyes met again, and it came, the feeling which had so taken Mathilde, and was now taking Jeanne as well.   
Jeanne was moving, faster towards Mathilde. Her hands brushed Mathilde’s hair, catching on a snag, but the feeling in Mathilde blurred the sudden sting. Their lips met in an explosion of color, colors that Mathilde could feel, and not see, could feel, but not put a name to. Jeanne’s lips were soft, yielding and sweet, with a hint of the flowers that graced Parisian fields in this time of year. It was a kiss of longing, of desire, unsatiated and unfulfilled until this very moment, the two women connected by one friendship that had become more. They separated, holding gazes, hands, shoulders. The flame was now roaring in them both, warming their cheeks with dainty blush, both of them ready to ignite a blaze in that jeweled room in Paris. Jeanne alighted her lips upon Mathilde’s again, enveloping her deeply in a kiss that brought forth bursts of passion. Mathilde felt the flame in her cheeks burn higher, warming her with a desire she could not name. She had never felt this way before—it was strange in a good way, new with a delightful shock but somehow familiar, as if she had felt this about Jeanne all along, only breaking the surface in the flame. Mathilde felt Jeanne slide her tongue delicately inside her mouth, and she giggled—falling for her all at once, wanting the moment to never end, wanting to stay with Jeanne forever, wrapping herself in the moment and the closed space between them—and she pushed her own tongue back, clasping her hands delicately behind Jeanne’s back. A soft gasp escaped Jeanne’s lips and she tore her lips away to intake breath. She leaned back onto the couch and bit her lip, smiling coyly up at Mathilde, a look in her eye that drew Mathilde in and danced on the edge of what was to come. She grasped Mathildes hips and pulled her in, collapsing into a deep, blazing kiss—the world dissolving around them, passion burning in their veins, hearts beating faster, skittering in their chests—and she brushed her lips down against Mathilde’s neck. Mathilde felt a soft blush touching her cheeks as her body was pressed against Jeanne’s. She felt Jeanne’s chest soft under hers, the beating of her heart, and Jeanne’s hands sliding on her hips.   
She clasped her hands delicately behind Jeanne’s neck, gasping at the feeling—the tingle in her chest, the electric touch of Jeanne’s lips against her face, the racing of her heart—and she shifted against Jeanne, tracing her hands down Jeanne’s back and pushing her lips against Jeanne’s forehead. A small moan lifted through the air from Jeanne’s lips and she giggled, sliding her hands under Mathilde’s hem. Mathilde felt her skin tingle at the touch of Jeanne’s hands against her bare skin and she moved her lips downwards, catching Jeanne with a soft, tender kiss. Jeanne kissed her back, her hands sliding over Mathilde’s hips and resting on her bare waist. Time seemed to stop as Mathilde’s brain spoke louder than her heart. A small fear edged into her mind. She loved this moment with Jeanne, but her mind danced in paranoia of getting caught. Women should never love other women—those were the nasty whispers of the townspeople. People didn’t really discuss it, but when a servant of the Duke was found in the Duke’s bed, the hatred that flew from mouths was sharp and brittle.   
Mathilde has never felt this way before about a woman and now, the reality of the moment she was in caught her. She wanted to expose herself to Jeanne and see all of Jeanne too, imagining the two of them alone in one of the huge beds Mathilde used to dream about. But if Jeanne’s child found them, all would be lost. If her husband found out, she would surely be cast away. She shuddered with a chill of fear and stood, inhaling deeply to attempt to push the feelings away. A mask of sadness fell over Jeanne’s features, and she stood as well. Tears streamed out of Mathilde’s eyes again, and she took Jeanne's hand lightly.   
“Jeanne...This is something I never thought I would feel. Being in this room with you is a wonder. But I am apprehensive...I fear for being caught by those who would not understand.” Jeanne smiled slightly at Mathilde, warmed by the fact that she cared so much.  
“Mathilde, I understand your fears...I am scared too, because what we’re doing….we’d face execution. But I’ve felt differently towards you from a very young age. When we fell out of contact, it almost broke me. But seeing you today….getting to touch you in the ways I’ve wanted since what seems like forever….if you’re feeling what I’m feeling…it could be wonderful.” She whispered the last part in Mathilde’s ear, brushing her lips softly against her. She dropped Mathilde’s hand gently and drifted away, turning at the door and smiling at Mathilde. Her deep, glittering eyes seemed to call to Mathilde, and any fear was dissolved with the tingling in her stomach. She was daring Mathilde, pulling deeper into the heat of the two of them. Mathilde admired her firm confidence. Jeanne seemed to know that it would be fine. They would not be caught by anyone. She had left, and when Mathilde turned, she saw a door to the left, closed, but on her right….A door was ajar. Mathilde’s eyes caught the edge of a bed. She stepped through, unsure, and drew breath at the sight before her.   
The room was filled by a lavish canopied bed, velvet curtains draped over a big window. Dresses were hanging on a bar to the side, and an open drawer revealed slimming corsets that Mathilde could never own. A large window filled one wall, sun streaming in and hitting the floor. A small glass vase held 3 white roses, and not one thing was out of place or dirty. She turned, and Jeanne was lying in the bed, her flats cast aside on the floor. Her hair was pulled down out of its tight updo, and it fell to her collarbone in flowing chestnut curls. Mathilde slid out of her shoes, suddenly self conscious of the dirt under her nails and the unkemptness of her hair. “Jeanne...I want…” Her mind couldn’t latch on the words, her mouth couldn’t describe the feelings in the depths of her heart. “I-I want….you. I want this.” Jeanne smiled, and a tear trickled out of her eye, a tear of happiness, the joy of the moment rushing about her mind.   
She grabbed Mathilde’s waist, pulling her down onto the bed with her. Their lips crashed together in a full, deep kiss. They felt the heat from each other’s bodies as they fell against silken sheets. Mathilde gasped and flitted her tongue into Jeanne’s mouth, winding her hands through Jeanne’s curls. They were soft and smooth, and Mathilde could detect a faint sweet scent among the strands as they caught the bright golden light from the window. Jeanne shifted her lithe body, sliding her lips down and pushing soft kisses against Mathilde’s neck. She giggled with delight and moved the kisses to Mathilde’s collarbone, as Mathilde moved her hands to Jeanne’s waist. Jeanne rolled over, sliding out from under Mathilde. She knelt and pulled Mathilde up to her knees as well.   
She leaned into Mathilde and kissed her nose lightly. “Unclasp me,” she breathed. Mathilde felt her light, warm breath on her face. She reached her hands behind Jeanne and wrapped her in a tender kiss as she gripped the clasp on the back of the silken dress. She undid it, moving her hands down and undoing the rest of the clasps that graced down Jeanne’s back and stopped above her waist. Jeanne slid backwards out of the sleeves, the fabric falling down and pooling at her stomach, revealing the tight burgundy corset that clung to her. Mathilde let her eyes gaze at Jeanne, roaming over creamy skin and smooth curves. The sun through the window made Jeanne’s bare shoulders glow, the slight shift in her movement catching the rays in small bursts. Mathilde noticed small clusters of light brown freckles, speckled across the tops of Jeanne’s breasts, just above the neckline of the corset. Jeanne slid out of the rest of the dress, pushing it off the bed.   
She leaned against Mathilde again, intertwining her in a brilliant kiss. As their lips met Jeanne made a small noise in her throat, a gentle moan, wrapping her arms behind Mathilde’s body. Mathilde was dressed in a staple of the lower class; she wore a simple long tunic and a ratty skirt. Jeanne’s hands slid under Mathilde’s shirt, clasping her hem and tugging. Mathilde gasped lightly and put her hands on Jeanne’s, pulling the tunic off her head and tossing it aside. Her bra was far from the fancy laced corsets that were scattered in Jeanne’s dresser, far from the deep burgundy one that hugged Jeanne’s curves in a way that seemed to make them fuller. It was a simple white fabric garment that Mathilde felt alone in, for it laid heavy on her and was far less sophisticated than anything in Jeanne’s room.   
The small bite of fear wormed in again—Jeanne’s house was everything she used to fantasize about—and she worried about not being good enough for her. She glanced at Jeanne, feeling shame burn her deeply as Jeanne’s eyes traveled across her chest. Jeanne reached her hand out, sensing the fear as she saw the sparkle leave Mathilde’s eyes. She stroked Mathilde’s cheek, running her fingers over her jaw. “Mathilde, do not worry. Your beauty….it strikes me in ways you could never imagine.” The words moved Mathilde, small tears sliding out of her eyes as Jeanne’s soft words washed over her. She took a deep breath and slid out of her skirt, letting it drop to the bed. Jeanne slid it off onto the floor. The two women sat in stunned silence, admiring each other’s bodies. Jeanne felt a heat in her cheeks as she gazed at Mathilde.   
She was trim from years of work, her bare arms and stomach were smooth, and those years of work hadn’t totally changed her, as she still sat daintily, her bare legs crossed at the ankles. As Mathilde gazed at Jeanne’s rich corset and flowing hair, the doubt grew in her mind again. She couldn’t stop the ever present flow of thoughts. Since a young age she had dreamed of such riches but as she sat so out of place, a white rose among thorns, fear gripped her. Now she was exposed to Jeanne, it was as if Jeanne could see the truth about her, dirtier, less dignified. Jeanne would leave her eventually. She shivered and pushed away from Jeanne, falling back onto the pillow.   
She gazed out the window, the sun hovering lower than before, tinging the sky with a dusky dark blue. Tears streamed out, falling onto the pillow and trickling down her neck, her collarbone glistening with drops of moisture. She felt the weight shift in the bed, and Jeanne lay next to her, curls framing her face and softly falling to her chest. “Mathilde….” She gazed at Mathilde, scared of the sadness in her eyes. Mathilde choked on the words and sniffled, her heart tearing out of her chest. “Jeanne….I feel like I have always known I liked you more than I should. I cannot stay here with you. I am not what you are, I cannot measure up to this. These corsets and dresses, riches beyond my years. I love these feelings and I adore you, but I cannot refrain from feeling like I am not good enough.” Tears flowed from Jeanne’s eyes, falling to her chest and running down her face. “Mathilde. I will never care about your wealth. I see you, a beautiful woman with strength. I have liked you from the start, you with your gorgeous hair and pretty eyes. You will never feel out of place….not when you’re with me. Here.” She placed her hand on her heart, then reached out towards Mathilde, stroking her cheek in circles with her thumb, wiping the tears from Mathilde’s eyes. Mathilde giggled a small, husky giggle and leaned in, kissing Jeanne slowly, tender and yearning all over again, as if born anew from her soft words. Jeanne kissed her back, intertwining her hands in Mathilde’s hair. The tears mixed on their lips, salt springing to life on their tongues. Jeanne shifted forward so their bodies were pressed against each other, heat coursing through them. Mathilde gasped lightly, her fingers tracing down to the laces on Jeanne’s corset. She held gazes with Jeanne, asking her for something greater. Jeanne giggled and kissed her on the nose, rolling onto her back. “Mathilde, I want to. But it is so late. Are you not tired from your day of work before?” She took a curl of Mathilde’s hair and wound it around her finger, stroking Mathilde’s cheek with her thumb. Mathilde did notice a weariness in her shoulders, weighted from the extensive scrubbing she had done that morning.   
She slid next to Jeanne, her body fitting perfectly in Jeanne’s, skin to skin. Jeanne pulled the duvet over them, resting airily on their bodies. Mathilde rested her head on Jeanne’s chest, feeling safe on her soft body. Jeanne gazed down at Mathilde, cradling her waist with one arm. Mathilde’s hair tickled her chest and she felt little tingles throughout her body. She watched the smaller woman as her head drifted to the side, tiredness consuming them both. She leaned down and kissed the top of Mathilde’s head, smiling as she started to lose herself to sleep. The two women lay there, as the sun outside turned the sky to a fiery orange, falling past the horizon. The stars gleamed outside the window. As Mathilde felt the heaviness of sleep on her eyelids, she turned her head slightly and noticed Jeanne’s eyes were closed, already in the world of dreams. Mathilde smiled at the thought: she was falling asleep with the woman of her dreams. She listened to Jeanne’s soft breathing, feeling her head rise and fall gently on Jeanne’s chest as Jeanne slept. As weariness fell upon her, she kissed Jeanne’s collarbone one last time, drifting into sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilde realizes that she cannot forget her life outside of Jeanne.

Jeanne opened her eyes, blinking as she adjusted to the light that streamed in through the window, pooling around her and the room, illuminating dust particles flying through the air. She wiped her eyes and yawned, sighing with pleasure as she remembered the night before. She looked down and smiled. Mathilde was still asleep on her body. She had shifted in the night, and now one of her arms was draped across Jeanne’s stomach. She was on her side, and her stomach was pressed against Jeanne’s waist. Her head lolled to the side, her cheek resting on Jeanne’s chest. Her hair spilled in all directions, falling behind her onto the sheets and laying across Jeanne’s collarbone. Jeanne felt every exhale, Mathilde’s warm breath tickling her skin. She felt her chest rising in time with Mathilde, the two women breathing in sync. She lay back against the pillow and watched Mathilde sleep, the room silent enough that Jeanne could hear automobiles outside—the bustle as Paris awoke. 

Mathilde groaned a little, pushing her body into Jeanne. She shifted again and her eyes started to flutter. She rolled over onto her back, her head slipping into the crook of Jeanne’s arm. She blinked awake. She sat there for a moment, not registering. Her brain couldn’t find thoughts this early. She wasn’t in her bed...with a start she remembered yesterday, and she angled her head upwards, locking eyes with Jeanne. “Good morning sleepyhead,” Jeanne murmured, leaning down and kissing Mathilde’s nose. Mathilde smiled and nestled against Jeanne, inhaling little lingers of sweet perfume that hung in the air. “Last night was amazing,” Mathilde whispered, kissing Jeanne’s shoulder. Jeanne smiled, stroking Mathilde’s hair. Mathilde yawned, glancing outside at the hustle and bustle of the Parisian morning. “Merde,” she whispered. 

She sat straight up, fumbling out of bed. She grabbed her skirt and shirt from the floor and shoved them on, frantically straightening her hair with her hands. “Jeanne, what time is it?” “Mathilde, what’s wrong?” “I have to go to work,” Mathilde gasped, out of breath as she slid into her shoes. Jeanne’s eyes grew wide and she rolled over, rifling through her bedside drawer. She pulled out a gold watch and squinted at the face. “It’s 8:26,” Jeanne said, looking at Mathilde, slight terror in her eyes. “Oh Jesus,” Mathilde said, and she started to leave. Her heart seemed to have caught in her throat and she turned at the door, hesitating in the doorframe. Jeanne had slid off the bed and was making her way over to the closet. Mathilde rushed over and pecked a kiss on her lips. “Bye,” she breathed, and she ran out the door out to the street. 

Mathilde sprinted down the lane, tripping on a cobblestone and faltering. Passerby eyed her sideways, casting their reprimands on her as she dashed, counting the lanes in her head. Rue de Puers, Rue de Douleurs, Rue de Honte...Rue de Piégés. She stumbled to the ground as she tried to stop her momentum too fast. Her knee smacked against the cobblestones and she grunted, rubbing it with her hand and wincing. She started walking down Rue de Piégés, making her way towards a magnificent house that stood on the left side of the lane. She pulled bobby pins from her pocket, winding her hair into a tight bun as she walked. Her heart was throbbing in her ears, squeezing with guilt at leaving Jeanne so quickly. It ached as she imagined Jeanne alone in her room, frightened, unsure as she was about whether they could see each other again. She wished she didn’t have this job, wanting to still be lying there in bed with Jeanne. 

She stopped outside the house and took a deep breath. She was almost a half an hour late, and hoped that her client would not be mad. She grasped the brass tiger knocker and rammed it against the door, smoothing her skirt and touching her hair one last time to make sure it was all in place. The door swung open smoothly, revealing a slim, neat man, dressed impeccably from head to toe. He glared down his nose at Mathilde. 

“Ah. Madame, you’ve finally arrived,” he sneered, looking at her as if she was a piece of dirt. “Why are you so late?” he snapped, waving her in and slamming the door behind her. “I am so, so sorry, Monsieur...I...forgot,” she stuttered, her cheeks flaming at the bad excuse. “You forgot,” he repeated, his lip curling. “Well. I guess you’ll have to stay an extra half hour to make up for what you missed,” he huffed, walking up the staircase. “Get to work on the floors. I’ll call you to the kitchen when it is time for you to prepare us a meal.” Mathilde inhaled deeply, trying to fight tears. Jeanne was branded in her mind, racing with sadness and happiness at the same time. Her gut ached with longing as she strode over to the closet in the corner, pulling out rags and a bucket. She wandered slowly to the bathroom, drifting off into thoughts of Jeanne. The bucket banged lightly against her hip, and she reached the sink. Mathilde turned on the faucet, the water fading into monotonous rushing. 

She pictured Jeanne standing next to her, her soft hand holding hers, standing with her. A cold feeling snapped her out of her reverie, and she looked down to see water hitting her shoe, soaking through as the overfilled sink spilled. She shook her head, trying to rid Jeanne from her thoughts. If she focused on the job, she could leave faster and see her again. 

She set the bucket down in the corner of the grand entrance hall, taking a bar of soap from the bathroom closet and dropping it in. She dunked the rag in, swirling it in the water and rubbing it against the bar to get it soapy. She started to scrub the floor, picking up dirt, dust and other small things. She scrubbed and scrubbed, her arm feeling the numbness yet again, just another day of cleaning. She leaned back against the banister and rested her arm, grateful for the time off. She rubbed her eyes, yawning. She had slept in, but the 3 hours of scrubbing had effectively erased that.

Mathilde closed her eyes, taking her mind back to the bedroom and Jeanne. Jeanne, sitting there in her corset; Jeanne, her curls flowing around her face; Jeanne, smelling like flowers, her airy laughter clear and elating. She heard a door slam somewhere and she jumped, whipping around and pretending to scrub at a dirty spot. The man made his way up the stairs and stopped in front of her. “My wife and I would like to eat now. Please prepare us an onion soup with bread and a salad.” Mathilde nodded and shuffled down the stairs, her cheeks still pink as if the man could read her thoughts about Jeanne. She dumped the cleaning supplies in the closet, leaving them askew on purpose; making her way towards the kitchen. 

Mathilde tied her apron around her waist and retrieved the food and pans from the cabinets. She dashed around the kitchen, preparing the ingredients and putting the pot on the stove. Humming to herself as she plated the salad, Mathilde worked quickly, desperate for any time off. The soup hadn’t finished cooking, so she sat down at the small table, pulling on her hair. 

Mathilde took herself back to the bedroom, wrapped in the warm embrace of Jeanne’s arms, silent and complacent in each other. She closed her eyes, relaxing years of tension from her shoulders. She smiled slightly as her mind wandered through memories, drifting through her and Jeanne, absorbed in her body and her smile, her caring and her compassion. She didn’t notice the burning smell coming from the stove; she was in another world entirely, a world with just her and the woman she desired. Mathilde sighed, feeling Jeanne’s lips against hers, her soft breath whispering in her ear.

The memory was shattered suddenly by a loud clicking. She opened her eyes to see the man snapping his fingers loudly in front of her face, leaning over her with a livid face. “What. Are. You. Doing,” he hissed, grabbing her wrist. He yanked the petite woman to her feet and pulled her over to the stove, pushing her in front of it. Mathilde looked down at the pot, charred around the edges, the soup black, small boiling bubbles still tracing across the surface. The man grabbed her roughly and whipped her around to face him, screaming in the cowering woman’s face. “What do I pay you for, you miserable wretch?!” Shame stung Mathilde’s cheeks, fire roaring through her. This wasn’t the fire that she had with Jeanne, it was a dark fire, flooding her skin. She saw the man’s wife out of the corner of her eye, but she looked away, unable to meet eyes with Mathilde. Mathilde gulped and stared at the man. “Sir, I am so sorry. I didn’t notice your soup was burning that badly.” The man’s face was livid, flushed with fury. “You were slacking on the job! You show up late, you burn the soup. I’m giving you one more chance to redeem yourself, otherwise you’re fired.” Mathilde nodded slightly, a tear slipping out of her eyes. The man stalked away, resting his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “My wife and I are going out to eat now. You will dust every piece of furniture in this house until they shine, then you may leave.” Mathilde nodded, sliding the pot’s contents into the trash. She slumped against the wall and took in big, shuddering breaths, gulping in air as tears pricked her eyes. She hated herself for letting herself get distracted. Her husband relied on her to make this money for them, and now the small woman curled up, sobs shaking her chest. Her heart was pulling on the tears, yanking them out in bursts of pure emotion. She needed this job to support her husband, but...she didn’t love her husband. Confusion battled in her brain. She didn’t know if she loved Jeanne or just liked her...She wanted more than anything to be with Jeanne, kissing her, touching her. But all this distraction was costing her. Her neckline was soaked with tears, wet cloth clinging to her skin. She gasped, her tears slowly receding. The last of them trickled out of her eyes as she heaved herself up, wiping her cheeks furiously. The food scattered around the kitchen seemed like way more than before, mountains of work ahead of her, not even the tip of the iceberg. She rolled up her sleeves, turning on the faucet and dumping the soiled pan in the sink. The water flooded over the edge, filling the pot as she added soap. Mathilde felt lost, dusting the rooms in a daze. Seeing Jeanne everywhere; lying in the bed as she cleaned the bedroom, lounging on the couch while she dusted the cabinets, wrapping her arms around Mathilde as she wiped banisters. 

The actions blurred her mind to dull repetition, swirling in thoughts. She felt something in her, deep and strong. She had to talk to Jeanne. Her heart craved Jeanne’s touch, lusting after her body, desiring her smile, missing her kindness. But they had to sort it out. She couldn’t abandon her husband forever, the public would ostracize them, and she couldn’t marry Jeanne...Her heart sped up, her thoughts melting together. She couldn’t believe marriage had crept in. What she and Jeanne had was amazing, but did she really want to stay with Jeanne her whole life? Her heart seemed to whisper yes, but she was timid. It could never be legalized. Sighing, the small woman pulled her hair out of its bun, relishing the freedom from the tightness that had been pulling on it all day. She rubbed her eyes, slipping on a sweater, as the sun had begun to set and the air was probably beginning to grow cold. 

She stepped outside, routing the way to Jeanne’s house in her mind. Her brain roamed the streets in her mind, envisioning Jeanne waiting for her in the doorway. Turning the corner, she yelped in surprise and she bumped into a man, reeling backwards. She recognized the shape of her husband, stark shadow cast against the sidewalk from the fading sun. She smiled softly, her insides roiling as she realized she had to explain herself. 

“My dearest Mathilde, are you okay? You had departed for work yesterday and you did not return! I was scared,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. Mathilde felt her face flush and she angled her face, her husband’s lips hitting her cheek. She looked into his eyes, grateful that the darkening sky hid her flaming cheeks. She stepped back, realizing with a chill that her husband still expected an answer. Her brain fumbled, drawing up blanks. “I….T-The...night cab service wasn’t running last night. I had to stay in an inn,” she finished, smiling weakly at him, her heart hanging on the edge of hope. “Ah..okay.” He seemed to believe her, linking his arms through her and steering her down the street. “Where are we going?” Mathilde cried, startled from the change in plans. “Home…” her husband said, glancing at her with an air of suspicion. Her heart skipped a beat, reminding her that her husband couldn’t know. She had to pretend...She smiled, patting his arm. “Of course...sorry, I must be tired. I think I will retire when we arrive home.” Her husband nodded, walking in step with her back to their small home. 

Mathilde slipped into the bedroom, peeling off clothes damp with sweat. She was slipping into her nightgown when she caught her husband in the mirror, coming towards her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and twisted her around, kissing her strongly. Mathilde felt bitter, an empty feeling icing its way through her chest as she let his lips linger, his teeth nibbling her lip. She shuddered a little as he broke away, smiling down at her. His fingers crept towards her breasts, but she gripped his hands, pushing them away. A painting of concern spread across his face, and he rubbed her back as she spoke. “Mathilde…” “I’m sorry, I just...I’m... too tired,” she sputtered, as thoughts of him inside of her drifted across her mind, fear pinching her heart. She pulled her nightgown over her head and forced herself to kiss his nose, sliding into the bed. He lay next to her, gazing at her with deep brown eyes. “I was thinking, since you don’t work tomorrow, we could go have a picnic.” A little grin crept across Mathilde’s face. She found it funny how hard he was trying to be good for her. 

She sighed, thinking it would all be easier if she loved him, or even men, but her beating heart smashed those thoughts. She didn’t know where she would be without Jeanne. She didn’t think she could feel that towards anyone, and she resented herself for even touching her husband. She sighed, racking her brain in a panic. She had to see Jeanne tomorrow, had to kiss and touch and talk and laugh. Her heart ached with a day of separation, anxiety worming inside of her.   
Inspiration struck, her brain formulating an excuse. “Honey...my friend Jeanne, who we borrowed the necklace from all those years ago?” Her husband furrowed his brow, hanging on to her next words in interest. “She found out and feels guilty, so she wants to pay us back. She invited me over to settle the papers...I don’t think we can picnic tomorrow.” She feigned disappointment, faking a sniffle to win him over. He smiled, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Mathilde sighed with relief, shifting under the covers to her side. “Good night, bebe,” she muttered, closing her eyes. But sleep wasn’t hitting her, her brain rushing through thoughts. She wanted to fall asleep next to Jeanne, missing her touch. She didn’t feel safe with her husband there, small and alone, receding back into her turtle shell. She drifted through the void, unable to settle on any single thought. Doubts that Jeanne didn’t like her as much, doubts that it was real love, fear of being caught, fear of her husband...they mixed together into a mess of negativity, haunting her mind until her eyes grew heavy, and she managed to rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilde and Jeanne decide how much they can risk for each other.

Mathilde blinked, something pressing against her heavily. Her breaths caught short and fast from her chest, panic icing her brain. She rubbed her eyes and saw her husband, squeezing her against him, his arms cradling her in a hug as he cuddled her, breathing in her ear. She felt paralyzed, disgust crawling under her skin, trapped in his arms with no way out. She wiggled a little, but he was wrapped around her. It would have been sweet, but Mathilde hated it, hated feeling his body against hers, dreading his touch and what might have happened last night while she was asleep, because she definitely fell asleep across the bed from him. She waited, her heart racing in her ears, pounding out rational thoughts. She couldn’t close her eyes again, anxiety wired in her veins.

She waited, breathing heavily until she felt him stir. The hairs in her neck stood straight up as he whispered in her ear, “Good morning, mon amour.” Mathilde turned and kissed his jaw, her stomach churning. “Mon...amour, please let me get up? I must see Jeanne, remember? She is waiting to meet.” His grip loosened, and she slid to the end of the bed, stretching as she stood, the sun through the window hitting her. The way the light framed her body sparked something in her husband, and he smiled, lost in her beauty. He had picked a gorgeous wife, hadn’t he? Wasn’t he so lucky? He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her into the bed and rolling on top of her. “Hey, it’s a Saturday morning, Mathilde...We have no jobs as always….Can we enjoy each other’s company in the bed? I’m sure Jeanne can wait. I know I’ve waited for your gorgeous body...” Mathilde felt tears stinging her eyes. She only saw him as a wall blocking her from reaching Jeanne. 

You have to get out. She exhaled shakily and said, “We...we do it a lot, mon cherie….” He grinned and kissed her cheek, bumping her nose. “We do it a lot for a reason,” he said, and he kissed her, fully and deeply, his lips pressing on hers. She couldn’t force herself to return the kiss, and hoped he couldn’t tell as she sat there, waiting as his lips smacked and pushed against hers. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away, forcing a grin as he broke the kiss. “I’m sorry, but I must meet her.” His smile faded and he looked at her, his soft chestnut eyes shining with earnest.

“Mon cherie, you are changed….” He stroked her cheek, his fingers grazing her jaw lightly. She blushed under his touch, embarrassed. As much as she couldn’t love him, she could appreciate his caring. “I know...I just would like to get this debt off our backs.” His hand traced down her shoulder, clasping around her wrist. “Very well, I understand. But...can we ignite this again later?” Mathilde nodded slowly and slid out of bed again, making her way to the closet. 

She pulled off her nightgown, aware that her husband was admiring her exposed breasts and body as they always did to each other, however, now it made her feel sick. But she could do nothing to change that. She chose her nicest dress, pulled from the dust of old garments from her times of longing. “Why so fancy?” her husband asked, pulling on his own clothes for the day. Mathilde flushed. She had picked this dress just for Jeanne, as it hugged her waist and scooped around her breasts. “Oh...I do not wish to make her seem as if I am lowly.” The excuse rolled off her tongue naturally, and she realized that it was partly true. As much as Jeanne denied caring about their different statuses, Mathilde deeply desired to be like her, to impress her with some form of riches, even though she had none. “I desire to make a good impression,” she said, smiling a little to herself, knowing she had already made quite an impression on Jeanne...literally. She flashed one last smile at her husband before heading towards the door of her home and out into the morning breeze.

The morning was bright, and it subconsciously made Mathilde feel the same. Knowing she had the day to spend with Jeanne made a smile creep over her face, and her pace increased, reaching Jeanne’s doorstep before she knew it. She smoothed her hair and knocked, exhaling shakily. She had not returned to Jeanne like she promised, and she was nervous Jeanne would be out like she was on weekends. 

But the door swung open, and Mathilde smiled, her heart pounding. Jeanne was in a tight emerald blouse and a gauzy silk black skirt, her curls poofy and catching the sun. Mathilde’s heart raced as she saw Jeanne’s face light up. Jeanne stepped past her out the door, looking up and down the street, busy with passerby. She grinned silently, and her eyes glinted, and Mathilde realized what she wanted, and why she couldn’t have it on the doorstep.

Jeanne grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the house, shutting the door behind them. “Je—“ Jeanne pushed her into the door, sliding her hands into Mathilde’s tangled nest of hair as she kissed Mathilde roughly, a delighted sigh escaping her throat. Mathilde instantly kissed her back, grinning against Jeanne’s lips. Jeanne moaned, softly, and pulled Mathilde into her, the two women gripping each other’s bodies desperately. Mathilde’s hands clasped around Jeanne’s neck as if she had done it her whole life, and she kissed Jeanne harder, tasting sweet berries. She realized her heart was beating in a way it never had with her husband, even when they were in love. Her stomach tingled and she only realized how much she had yearned to kiss Jeanne when she felt how full Jeanne made her feel, as if they were alone in the universe, soaring through the sky. 

Jeanne broke away, panting, and pressed her forehead against Mathilde’s, Mathilde smelling berries and mint in her breath. “I missed you so much Mathilde, I thought you weren’t okay…” Jeanne whispered, her breath shaky. “No, no,” murmured Mathilde, “no, I’m okay, I had to go home...to my husband.” Her voice broke a little and she caught herself frowning, guilt filling her. Jeanne’s eyebrow raised and she said, “Oh-oh. I see.” Mathilde flushed and took Jeanne’s face in her hands. “No, Jeanne, please, I don’t love him. I think...we should sit down.” Jeanne nodded, but her eyes still wouldn’t meet Mathilde’s as she led Mathilde to the sitting room. Mathilde’s heart was pounding, her stomach churning. She couldn’t screw this up, couldn’t lose Jeanne again.

When she and Jeanne were settled into their seats, she took a deep breath. “Jeanne...In these past two days, I have felt more for you than I ever thought possible. What my heart does…I never want to leave you.” Jeanne gazed at her, eyes shining, and she whispered, “But...you are with a man. How can you constantly be with the both of us? How can I...live apart from you if this continues? How can I know he touches you where I do?” Mathilde took a deep breath. Say the wrong thing, and it was over. Before she could speak though, Jeanne leaned forward, saying, “And we’d have to live in complete secrecy. I would rather never kiss you again than see you be executed for me. Mathilde...can we even do this?” Mathilde felt tears spring into her eyes and then fall, and she wiped them away desperately, trying to keep her composure. 

Mathilde knew what she wanted. But she didn’t know if Jeanne wanted it too, and if she said too much, and scared her off, it would break her. She inhaled a shuddering breath, her stomach sick. You can do this. “Jeanne...I would stay with you no matter what the cost. I’ve been thinking, and I-I…” Her throat closed up and she looked away from Jeanne, blushing. Her eyes were forced to Jeanne’s when Jeanne placed her hand on Mathilde’s wrist. “Jeanne...I want to leave my husband for you. I want this...feeling to last for my whole life.” Jeanne gave a small gasp, and her eyebrows raised, her eyes still glistening with tears. “Jeanne, I—“ Jeanne put a small finger on Mathilde’s lips, shushing her.

“Mathilde...I know.” Mathilde smiled, tears of joy blurring her vision of Jeanne as she leaned in, her breath quickening with anticipation. Their lips melted together slowly, in a tender kiss that made sparks jump on Mathilde’s skin. Jeanne leaned towards the edge of her chair, deepening the kiss, and Mathilde grabbed her waist and pulled her, shifting down in her chair so Jeanne landed on top of her, their lips parting with a small smooching sound. Mathilde was about to kiss Jeanne again when she murmured, “So what will you tell him?” Mathilde’s blood ran cold as she thought of him.

“That...our love does not have the same depth anymore. That I have lost my passion for him.” Jeanne stared into her eyes, fear widening her pupils. “But will he take it well?” Mathilde thought back to all her years with him. “I believe so, if I inform him gently, he has always been sweet...although not as sweet as you.” Her fear alleviated, Jeanne giggled and kissed Mathilde’s cheek, but Mathilde turned and caught her lips in a kiss. Jeanne smiled against her lips and Mathilde kissed her more intensely, causing Jeanne to part her lips in a sigh. 

Mathilde slid her tongue into the open space, intertwining it with Jeanne’s and moaning softly, tasting the sweetness in her. Jeanne dug her fingers into Mathilde’s hair and Mathilde gripped her waist, gasping for breath before kissing Jeanne again. Jeanne moved down and kissed Mathilde’s neck, while Mathilde tilted her head back and sighed, biting her lip to suppress moaning loudly. Jeanne’s hands held Mathilde’s shoulders as their lips met again, and then Jeanne was pulling, tugging Mathilde’s dress down. Mathilde shivered and darted away, breathing heavily. Jeanne stared at her, lips parted in confusion, and Mathilde said, “Jeanne...I don’t think I can. Not while knowing he’s still waiting for me. Not while knowing I have to return to him so...he can...can do the same things to me.” 

Jeanne felt tears spring to her eyes and she whispered, “Is he that bad?” Mathilde shook her head. “No, it’s just...I feel sick when he touches me, it feels like I’m betraying you, and I...I don’t love him and I can’t stand when he wants to have intercourse, because it’s just…” Her head dropped and she let herself cry, tears staining her cheeks. “Oh, Tildy…” Mathilde’s heart swooped at the nickname and she nestled into Jeanne’s chest, feeling her breath rise and fall. “I have to tell him today. I have to get out of his house, his life.” Jeanne nodded and kissed her head, sliding off her. “You can do this. Do you want to go now?” Mathilde shook her head. She needed more time to think. “May I stay for lunch?” Jeanne nodded and took her hand, pulling her deeper into her house, deeper into her heart, deeper into her life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilde confronts Mr. Loisel about her new feelings.

Mathilde stood on the doorstep, staring into the late afternoon street. People still came and went, and where Mathilde was going, she wasn’t sure when she would come back. She knew her husband was sweet, but who was to say that would stay the same if she professed a wanting to separate? She looked over shoulder at Jeanne, whose curls caught the light of the dimming sun. “You are so strong,” she whispered, squeezing Mathilde’s shoulders. “Will you come back here when you have finished?” Mathilde nodded slightly, staring at the ground. She flashed one last smile at Jeanne and said, “See you soon, J.” The journey to her house seemed to take a mere minute, her heart pounding in her forehead. 

The closer she got to her house, the more sick her stomach felt until it was sinking as she entered her house. “Mathilde,” cried her husband, racing to her. “Why did you take the whole day?” “Jeanne invited me to lunch,” she murmured, looking at the ground. “Mathilde.” The edge to his voice made her look up, and he wasn’t smiling. “Why do you leave me these days? I cannot ever seem to keep your company.” “Perhaps, mon cherie, we should sit down,” she muttered, her heart skipping beats as she lowered herself into her chair. “I...I have to tell you something. It has been eating at me for a while, and I cannot keep it from you.” Her husband's eyes softened, but Mathilde knew that what she said next would change her life. “I am so sorry, but I wish to...to...s-separate.” Her husband’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed as his voice hardened. “You wish to what?” “To...stop being your wife.” Mathilde felt tears stinging her eyes and blinked, trying to show some strength. “After all I’ve done for you?” he hissed, his cold glare cutting deep into her skin. “I have done nothing but love you, all these years. When we suffered through this debt, I carried us through your mistake.” Mathilde nodded, tears springing into her eyes. “I know, I know—“ “So what is it? Have you fallen for someone else?” She started to shake her head, but her husband cut her off, his hands shaking. “Tell me the truth Mathilde. There’s another man.” Mathilde started to cry, and she sniffled and said, “N-no...I just...have fallen out of love with you.” He shook his head. “You lie, Mathilde. You are staring away. Jeanne must have set you up with a rich man, you spend so much time with her….” Mathilde blushed crimson red and couldn’t meet her husbands eyes, but glanced up as realization dawned on his face. “Unless...are you...sleeping with her?” Mathilde couldn’t answer, looking down, his anger stunning her into silence. He knew what her silence meant, but had to hear it from her.

“Are you sleeping with her?” His voice was icy cold, and when she looked into his eyes, more tears streamed down her face as she saw how hard they were. “Answer me, salope.” Mathilde still refused, and he stood, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up. “Tell me, you fils de pute!” he roared in her face, spit hitting her face. Tears streamed out faster and sobs started to shake her chest, but she nodded silently, staring into his eyes. “My wife is a pédé. So what, you make love to her, nasty putain? You give me a smile, and then you jump from my bed into hers without a thought.” Mathilde shook her head, sobs making her chest shake. “Please...please...I’m sorry….”   
“You little snake. You’ve been lying to me this whole time, doigte-elle, kissing her...you nasty wench.” 

“Please...mon cherie…” His face turned red, his eyes steely with rage. “Don’t call me your dearest, lying salope! You should die for your betrayal!” Before Mathilde knew it, she was falling, her husband shoving her to the ground. She turned to catch herself and sharp, flaring pain lit up her entire face, and she screamed, sobbing and gasping as she hit the floor. Warm, sticky blood was gushing down her cheek, and she raised shaking fingers to her face, turning them red as she touched the deep gash across her face. She saw blood dripping from the corner of the table that had slashed her. She rolled on her back, seeing her husband, a dark figure in the room.  
The pain was unbelievable, and there was a ringing in her ears. Her head swam, and tears mixed with fresh blood on her face as she sobbed violently, coughing on the ground. The ringing faded enough to hear her husband mutter, “You nasty woman. I can’t believe I ever loved you. I hope that salope Jeanne never comes, because I’ll end her.” Hearing his insults towards Jeanne sparked a deep fury in Mathilde, and she got up, streaking towards the door. 

She was close when his arms, once soft, now hard with anger, gripped her waist and spun her. His hands held her arms, pinning them as she tried to struggle. “Please! Let me go! Please….” Mathilde sobbed, feeling weaker. Her heart was pounding and her face was throbbing. She was exhausted and needed Jeanne, but her limbs were too weak. “So you can run to your little putain? I don’t think so,” he growled. “Please….” She choked on blood as it entered her mouth, and she managed to wriggle free, slapping him hard across the face. She sobbed harder, wiping tears and blood into a wet mess on her hands, but she had no effect, and he grabbed her arm, yanking her away and letting go.   
Time seemed to slow down as she flew across the room, her heart racing with fear. Then, like a cannonball, she hit the wall, and felt searing, burning, intense pain in her arm as she heard a crunching sound. Her vision went black for some seconds and she found herself on the floor. “Hhhh...unhhhhh…” The only sounds she could make were moans of pain and desperation. Her arm stuck out from her at a funny angle, and red spots swam in her vision. She tried to pull herself up, but the pain in her arm and wrist stabbed her and she collapsed again, moaning. She sobbed, unable to stop the tears and blood as her husband stood over her. “Serves you right.” All the air left her lungs as he kicked her stomach, storming away into the house. 

Mathilde lay on her side, crushing what must have been the broken arm she landed on, wheezing for breath. Her hyperventilations didn’t help, and she gasped and coughed for air, choking on tears and blood. She blinked hard, clearing the spots from her vision. Her eyes threatened to close, and she was exhausted, but she couldn’t sleep there. She was not safe. She heard the shattering of dishes and screamed curses from rooms beyond, and knew it was her husband's rage. She curled into a ball and cried, tears streaming down her face into her mouth, salt mixing with iron. But her mind wouldn’t let her give up. She realized who was waiting for her. Jeanne. She had to get out of there, had to be safe in her arms. Using her good arm, she pushed herself to her feet, but a fresh wave of exhaustion hit and she stumbled, barely retaining her balance. 

She made it to the door, when she heard footsteps. She turned to see her husbands hulking form, and sprinted into the night, her feet aching as she heard his footsteps pounding behind her, his heavy breathing...she ducked into an alley and sprinted for her life, tears pouring down her face and blurring her view, but she knew the streets by heart. Her heart clamped and her stomach churned as she ran harder, her head and arm throbbing with fiery pain. Her feet begged her to stop, but her adrenaline kept her going, knowing she had to escape her husband. She only stopped when she was outside Jeanne’s door, and realized that she had lost him. She knocked on the door, breathing heavily, taking raspy, shaky breaths as the door swung open. Jeanne stood there in a lacy white nightdress, and her face drained of color when she saw Mathilde’s bloody, bruised face, the tired circles under her eyes, and her limp arm. Tears instantly started to stream down Jeanne’s face, and Mathilde whispered, “Jeanne...I found you.” Jeanne was about to answer, when Mathilde stumbled into her arms, her vision going black as she passed out from pain and exhaustion. “Mathilde!!!” Jeanne screamed in anguish, holding up the beaten woman, but Mathilde didn’t respond, and she closed the door on the dark world, hoping Mathilde would wake up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne heals Mathilde after her ordeal with Mr. Loisel

Mathilde was swimming in the river. She floated on her back, content. The sun shone above her, bathing her face with the warmth of summer. A hand brushed hers and she looked to see Jeanne. Jeanne pulled her across the water into her body, and they started to kiss, tasting the river on each other’s lips. Jeanne’s airy giggle echoed through the air and Mathilde smiled, stroking her damp curls. Suddenly, Jeanne jolted against her. She jerked away, and Mathilde saw blood ribboning through the water. It poured out from Jeanne’s chest, flooding the river with delicate blooms of rosy liquid.

Mathilde tried to scream, but her lips were frozen shut. She thrashed to get anyone else’s attention, as Jeanne started to cry, tears pouring down her face. Mathilde held her, weeping silently, but Jeanne slipped through her arms, away, down into the depths. Mathilde sobbed, her arms weaker as she tried to stay afloat. Something grabbed her ankle and she sunk under. Underneath her, Jeanne was now wearing her burgundy corset and skirt, billowing in the water as fish swam around her. She was pale, her lips losing their sheen, her eyes closed and her hair forming a halo around her head. Brown and green weeds held her in place, snaking over her arms, chest and neck. A jagged hole was ripped in her chest, and beneath it her heart was trickling blood, mixing with blood leaking from her lips. 

Mathilde saw a man gripping her ankle, pulling her down. She swiped at him, only managing to clear the weeds and see her husband’s face. Her lips unfroze for her to scream, but water filled her lungs as her husband bared shark teeth, lunging for her. She tried to swim and hit Jeanne’s pale body, cold to the touch. More water kept pouring in as she screamed, and Jeanne’s eyes opened. 

“Tildy!” she yelled into the water, “Tildy, please, you are dreaming, Tildy, please come back, please, answer me, Tildy, answer me….” Mathilde’s lungs filled completely and she closed her eyes as darkness took her, blinking awake to a bright room.

The sun was blindingly white, and Mathilde blinked, groggy. She didn’t remember what had happened. How did she get out of her house? Where was she? She only remembered passing out in her house...she realized a warmth on her face. Jeanne was stroking her cheek, her normally poised and beautiful appearance broken.  
“Jeanne,” she whispered, and she tried to sit up, but her arm exploded with pain and she fell back to the bed. 

“No, Tildy, rest.” “Jeanne,” Mathilde sobbed, “H-H-He killed you...you w-were bleeding….” she coughed and choked on her tears and said, “H-He’s coming, he’s going to kill me, he’s going to hurt you, J….” Mathilde convulsed with sobs, and she tried to curl up, but her arm was bound in a splint. It was made of a dark rosewood, which Mathilde recognized as the material of Jeanne’s chairs. Fabric bound it tightly to her arm, but meant she couldn’t bend it. 

“Mathilde...you were dreaming. You’re in my house, he can’t get you.” Mathilde noticed her cheeks were stained with tears, her blue eyes puffy and red, with dark purple circles underneath. Her curls were ratty and uncombed, her face was grey with a blemish on her cheek, and she was wearing a stained, torn tunic. “Tildy...what did he do to you? You started to scream, and I couldn’t wake you up...you’ve been asleep for 4 days.” Mathilde swallowed thickly, holding back new tears. “He...hurt me. He threatened to kill you, Jeanne...you’re not safe….” 

“Tildy. I will never, ever let him touch you again, darling.” She leaned over to kiss Mathilde, and Mathilde smiled when her warm lips smooched her forehead.   
Jeanne touched her face and grimaced, and Mathilde felt a small trickle of liquid on her cheek. “Your bandages must be changed again, Tildy, you have pus.” Jeanne slid off the bed and hooked her arms under Mathilde’s, pulling her off the bed. Blood rushed to Mathilde’s head, and she closed her eyes, feeling her heart slam in her temples.

Her vision swam when she blinked open and she shut them again, her eyes heavy. She was exhausted, her arm throbbing with the movement and her face stinging with pain, her feet still weary from running. She leaned heavily on Jeanne, and realized she did not smell as nice as usual, her hair scratching Mathilde’s neck. “Jeanne...are you alright?” Mathilde whispered as she looked through half closed eyes at Jeanne’s tired face. 

“I have been caring for you, Mathilde. You were losing so much blood, and I could not see you die.”  
“But, J, are you sleeping, are you eating?” Jeanne shook her head solemnly, brushing Mathilde’s hair away. “You matter more.” Mathilde shook her head, tears spilling over as she tried to say, “J, you need to care for yourself...I will not be able to help you if you fall away from me.” Jeanne wiped Mathilde’s tears and blinked back ones of her own. “Okay. Now you have woken up...at least I know...you were not….” she didn’t finish the sentence, but Mathilde knew what she was thinking. Dead. 

Jeanne opened the bathroom door and said, “I do not wish to pry upon your privacy, so this might be clumsy...wrap yourself in this.” Jeanne placed a towel on the sink. She then unwound the bandages and removed the wood, holding Mathilde’s arm in place. She squeezed it gently and Mathilde cried out in pain, tears stinging her eyes as fire rushed through her.

“The crack is smaller, you are healing slowly.” Jeanne felt tears well in her eyes and blinked them away. She pulled Mathilde’s tunic over her head and slid it slowly off her arm, and Mathilde noticed she had cut off the sleeve on her broken side to ease the process. As Jeanne slid off the fabric, her other hand moved Mathilde’s arm a little, causing Mathilde to cry quietly in pain, as Jeanne murmured soft, sweet reassurances. Jeanne then handed her the towel to hold in front of her. She undid Mathilde’s bra from the back, and Mathilde wrapped the towel defensively around her breasts, not ready. In her broken state, she didn’t want Jeanne to see her body, already so exposed with her wounds and exhausted face.

With one hand, she managed to pull her skirt and briefs down, slipping into the bathtub, clutching the towel around her. Jeanne kneeled next to her, stroking her cheek and crying. “Mathilde, you look so small...I can’t believe he hurt you like this.” Mathilde closed her eyes, whispering, “Please hurry, Jeanne, I need to sleep again...I’m so tired, darling.” 

Jeanne nodded, sniffling, and peeled the bandage off Mathilde’s face. It stung her wound and skin and she moaned in pain, choking on her tears. Jeanne dunked a cloth in a bucket of water waiting for her and sponged the gash, Mathilde gasping and shivering as cold water stung the exposed wound and tricked down her neck. Jeanne washed her whole face, and then handed the cloth to Mathilde and said, “Just try your best.” She left Mathilde alone to her thoughts. 

Jeanne was killing herself to save her. If she was willing to do all that, she had to stay. And she wanted to stay. As she lifted the towel and washed her skin, she grimaced from the cold. She wanted to live in this house forever. But she had no clothes besides the tunic and skirt she had worn the day she had told her husband. Images from her nightmares flashed in her head, and she dropped the cloth, shaking. He had done this to her. 

He used to be so sweet...what had happened? Mathilde suddenly realized she was doomed, for her husband could tell anyone. She had to hide, Jeanne wouldn’t be safe...she dropped the cloth, starting to sob. She curled her head to her chest and cried, gut wrenching sobs that tugged on her throat and made her choke on her tears. She cried until her chest hurt, until she had no tears left to cry. “Tildy? Have you finished?” “Y-yes,” Mathilde answered, hastily wrapping herself back up. 

Jeanne opened the door, her hair brushed and in a new tunic. “Here, darling.” She wrapped Mathilde’s head lightly, re-bandaging the gash. She took the wood and fresh cloth and slowly fixed Mathilde into the splint, wiping her tears as she cried from the pain. “It’s almost over, Tildy...you can rest soon.”

Mathilde nodded weakly as she turned, dropping the towel and letting Jeanne put on a white nightgown from the back. She closed her eyes to rest as Jeanne did so, breathing heavily from exhaustion and pain as Jeanne jolted her arm slightly. It was much too long, hanging to her shins, and the sleeves fell past her hands. It made her feel enveloped in Jeanne’s scent, however, and she slid her arm into Jeanne’s, shuffling back to what she saw was Jeanne’s bedroom. 

“J, where are you sleeping?” Jeanne rubbed her shoulders and said, “I haven’t been much, but I dozed occasionally on my couch. I’d like to sleep with you, though, if that is alright?” Mathilde smiled weakly, feeling a pinch of pain as it stretched her wound. “I would like that, Jeanne. You…I am safe when you sleep with me, as if I will always be protected.” Jeanne helped her into the bed, brushing her hair away and resting her splinted arm on its own pillow. Mathilde closed her eyes, heavy with exhaustion, until she felt Jeanne’s weight sink next to her.

“J...thank you for everything. I...I love you.” Jeanne smiled, happy tears falling as she whispered, “I love you too, Tildy. Rest now.” She wrapped Mathilde’s mouth in a deep kiss, before moving to her nose and kissing it. “I will see you when you wake.” Mathilde nestled into her pillow and let her eyes close, feeling Jeanne watch her sleep, her guardian angel.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne teaches Mathilde the joys of lesbian sex.

Over the next few weeks, Mathilde’s injuries healed slowly, as she had more fitful sleep and calm days in Jeanne’s bed, too weak to move much. She was feeling much better on a Sunday morning when Jeanne brought her a tray of bread and coffee. Mathilde sipped on the warm drink gratefully as Jeanne slid onto the bed next to her, staring at her with her deep, crystal blue eyes. 

“Jeanne...Thank you for everything. I cannot...imagine what would have happened if…” Jeanne nodded and nuzzled Mathilde’s nose with her own, smiling sadly.  
“You’re safe, Mathilde. You’ll always be safe.” 

“I’ve never met a woman like you Jeanne...how can you be so sensitive and caring towards me after I stopped contact?” Jeanne blushed and looked away, biting her lip. The sight made Mathilde’s chest tighten briefly, and her face burned crimson, watching Jeanne nibble herself. “Honestly? Because I thought my dreams could be realized still.”

“What dreams?” Mathilde whispered, thinking she knew the answer. “Romantic ones…” Jeanne murmured. She looked Mathilde in the eye and said, “Sexual ones.” Mathilde felt a warmth in her stomach and realized that she was ready. She wanted to see Jeanne naked, and wanted Jeanne to see her, to give Jeanne what she wanted.

She slowly set aside the tray and slid out from under the covers, kneeling in front of Jeanne. “I believe...I can make your dreams come true,” Mathilde whispered, and she pulled her nightgown over her head, letting Jeanne look. Her breasts tingled under Jeanne’s gaze. They were medium sized, but delectably round and tender, with light brown circles of skin around dark pink nipples. Jeanne made a small noise in the back of her throat and pulled her own dress off. 

Mathilde blushed seeing Jeanne had nothing on underneath, as if she had been expecting this. Jeanne’s breasts were much larger and tanner, with dark brown ovals of skin surrounding her light brown nipples. Mathilde’s eyes traveled down to Jeanne’s vagina, which was covered in a light matte of straight black hair. Jeanne grinned coyly and tugged at Mathilde’s underwear. Mathilde knew as she slid out of her briefs there was no going back, for Jeanne grinned even wider seeing what was between Mathilde’s thighs, blanketed with thick, curly brown hair.

Mathilde blushed severely under her gaze and leaned up to kiss her. Jeanne met her lips and the kiss burned with passion, Jeanne licking the sides of Mathilde’s tongue and swirling around the tip. They broke for breath and Mathilde gasped, “I’ve never done this…” Jeanne caught her with a deep kiss, their tongues playing inside their mouths. Jeanne nibbled Mathilde’s lip and Mathilde moaned, spurring on Jeanne’s lust. 

Jeanne pushed her down into the pillow, sliding one leg over Mathilde’s legs, straddling her. Her breasts dangled in front of Mathilde’s face as she sat on top of her, nipples glowing in the morning sun. She leaned down into the crook of Mathilde’s neck and whispered, “I have,” into Mathilde’s ear, kissing behind her earlobe. Mathilde shivered as Jeanne kissed down her neck to her chest. Jeanne looked into her eyes, asking one last time with her wide pupils, double checking for consent.  
Mathilde nodded, and Jeanne reached her hands up, cupping Mathilde’s breasts. She squeezed them lightly, and Mathilde felt her chest tighten with a sudden arousal. Jeanne placed her thumbs over Mathildes nipples and rubbed them, pushing them with delicate force. She circled around them and stroked them, and Mathilde’s chest ached as her nipples became harder and harder, until they were erect, her chest so tight with anticipation and emotion that she was gasping for breath. Jeanne leaned down, her hair tickling Mathilde’s now erect nipples, and Mathilde gasped and let out a moan as Jeanne’s lips closed around her right mound. 

Her heart pounded in her ears as Jeanne sucked on her nipple, her tongue circling it over and over. She kissed it and sucked it again, before a shock of pain lit across Mathilde’s chest as Jeanne nibbled it lightly, licking it to ease the pain.

Her hand slid behind Mathilde until it rested on her bare back, and she used her hand to pull Mathilde slightly off the bed. Mathilde’s legs were now around Jeanne’s waist, sitting on her lap, Jeanne’s left hand behind her back to hold her off the pillow. Her chest was alive with warmth now, as Jeanne touched her like she never had before. She had never been this turned on, and she giggled as Jeanne stroked her spine, her pinky slipping into the top of Mathilde’s crack before sliding out again. Her right hand moved to Mathilde’s wet nipple and stroked the hard tip again, squeezing her breast and pinching her nipple as she kissed across Mathilde’s chest, towards her left breast. Mathilde shuddered as Jeanne’s head got closer, and she gave a cry of pleasure as Jeanne licked her left nipple. 

Jeanne’s rosy lips closed around it, sucking it as her tongue slid around and around. Mathilde felt her chest grow warmer as Jeanne moaned around her nipple, kissing it intensely and licking it again, sucking it harder. Her hand continued to fondle and pinch Mathilde’s other nipple, and the double stimulation took its toll. The warmth spread down Mathilde’s core, and between her legs. She felt herself growing wet, ready for more, as her vagina flushed with heat. “Jeanne…” she moaned, but it was cut off as Jeanne tugged on her left nipple with her teeth and Mathilde threw her head back, panting in delight. She knew Jeanne must have felt her wetness, for Jeanne looked down to where Mathilde was straddling her, the top of her thigh getting moist as the lips of Mathilde’s vulva became slick. She pushed Mathilde onto the bed, and stroked Mathilde’s thighs, gripping them lightly and spreading them wide open. Mathilde felt more exposed then she ever had, gazing at Jeanne as she was splayed naked, everything between her thighs soaked and ready. 

Jeanne pressed her face between Mathilde’s breasts and kissed downward. Mathilde giggled as her hair tickled her stomach, her hot, soft tongue pausing to lap around her belly button twice, leaving her stomach tight and warm with pleasure. Jeanne was getting closer, and Mathilde took a deep breath, knowing Jeanne was about to see all of her. Jeanne stroked the top of her pubic hair, and Mathilde sighed, waiting. She trusted Jeanne with her body, trusted Jeanne’s knowledge. Jeanne slid down Mathilde’s body, her pubic hair scratching Mathilde’s stomach and rubbing against her own, causing her to shiver. 

Jeanne was propped up on her elbows now, resting on the bed between Mathilde’s legs. She smiled up at Mathilde softly and said, “Are you ready?” Mathilde nodded, her breath quivering. This was her first time in bed with another woman, and she did not know how Jeanne was going to please her. Jeanne parted the plush pink lips of her labia, exposing the damp interior. Mathilde shuddered as Jeanne slid one slender finger inside her.

Mathilde gasped as Jeanne started to rub slowly, gliding in and out, deeper as Mathilde grew warmer and warmer, moaning softly. She quaked a little as Jeanne slid in a second finger, both sliding back and forth. Jeanne’s other hand held her apart, and her fingertips started to tingle as Mathilde’s folds grew wetter, soaking her. She started to rub a little faster, and Mathilde felt her clitoris start to throb, warm and desperate. As if Jeanne sensed her thoughts, the surface of her thumb touched it, causing Mathilde to gasp with joy. Waves of warmth were pulsing through her now, and she knew, just knew something was coming. Jeanne continued to thrust smoothly as her thumb started to caress the sensitive nub. She rubbed it harder and stroked it in smooth circles, her fingers still gliding in and out of Mathilde. Mathilde shook as her thighs trembled, close to the edge. “Don’t….stop, J,” she whispered, driving her hips into Jeanne’s fingers, sliding them in deeper.

Jeanne grinned and said, “I won’t until I make you happy...until I know you love me,” pressing her thumb on Mathilde’s clitoris. Mathilde whimpered as Jeanne withdrew her fingers, desperate for more. Jeanne lowered her face between Mathilde’s wet thighs, and she felt Jeanne sigh against her as she started to lick the slick lips of Mathilde’s vulva. She swirled up and down the opening, stopping before reaching Mathilde’s pulsing, hot clitoris. “Mmm, Tildy, you taste…so good..” Jeanne moaned, and Mathilde blushed and shuddered. Her husband had never used his mouth, and Mathilde squirmed hearing Jeanne’s soft voice assure her that she tasted good. 

Jeanne’s hot, smooth tongue penetrated Mathilde, and she felt herself grow practically feverish, the new sensation making her tingle, knowing what was next. Jeanne licked inside her, running her tongue over every fold. Mathilde gasped over and over, short of breath, before she groaned, “Please, J!” Jeanne’s pink lips closed around Mathilde’s clitoris, and one soft lick followed by Jeanne sucking her was all it took. 

Mathilde arched her back and cried out in ecstasy as she came, her head digging into the pillow beneath her. The knot of nerves ached with pleasure as warmth flooded her veins, the most pleasure and sensation she had felt in years. She wriggled as Jeanne kissed her thighs, her mind blank with joy. Jeanne made her so happy, and her arms erupted in goosebumps as the only thing she could think about was how free she felt. She was melting, smiling as she dripped from her thighs, every nerve raw as her legs weakened, exhausted from the exertion. She giggled and panted, grinning as Jeanne watched her, the woman who made her feel alive.

She was sore and hot from what Jeanne had done, panting desperately, but Jeanne slid inside her again, her finger slipping in and out easily as she fingered Mathilde’s drenched vagina. Mathilde thrashed and murmured, “I can’t…” but Jeanne laughed and said, “Mathilde, I want you to feel that pleasure again...you’re perfect for me, wet for me….I’ll make you feel it more...don't you want to?” In response, Mathilde thrust her hips down, making Jeanne’s finger go deeper, stroking the tender spots inside her. The hunger grew in her again, and her chest tightened with the need to reach that height. Jeanne kept her middle finger inside Mathilde and she whispered against the lips of her labia, “I want to feel you when you are soaring through the clouds. ” Mathilde gasped, “You...it’s so good, J...I can’t..take it...” Jeanne licked her moist entrance again, lapping up her taste as her tongue glided over the dripping, pink folds between Mathilde’s thighs. She licked near the bottom of Mathilde’s throbbing nub, and just as Mathilde was ready, Jeanne placed Mathilde’s swollen clitoris between her thumb and index finger and squeezed it.

“Oh, mon dieu, Jeanne!” Mathilde wailed as the wave of heat consumed her. She writhed on the bed as her vagina scorched with ripples of pleasure, flooding her with happiness and making her focus on every nerve in her body, tingling with pleasure. Jeanne gasped feeling Mathilde’s muscles clench around her finger, tight and wet as Mathilde moaned, closing her eyes as she came harder than she just had. Mathilde let herself sink into the pillow, trying to focus on how numbingly happy she was. She didn’t want it to go away, breathing deeply as her heavy eyes fluttered, gasping, “I love you, Jeanne...God, I love you.” Jeanne watched her finish, smiling at Mathilde’s sweaty figure, her cheeks flushing as Mathilde’s cum flowed on her fingers, sticky and hot, a taste she had yearned to have since the first kiss. 

Mathilde only opened her eyes when she felt Jeanne pulling out smoothly, leaving her tender and burning, aching where Jeanne had pleasured her.  
Jeanne winked as she stuck her fingertips in her mouth, licking and swallowing Mathilde’s warm cum and sighing, “Tildy...you are more delectable than I...ever dreamed…” “Jeanne, that was-“ But Mathilde’s voice was hoarse, and Jeanne shushed her. “Shhh..rest, darling.” 

Mathilde lay there passively, the throbbing of her clitoris slowly calming down as sweat misted across her stomach and forehead, her wet legs weak and heavy, still spread open. The weight shifted as Jeanne slid off the bed, coming back with a handkerchief that she used to softly wipe Mathilde dry. Mathilde pulled back the covers and they slid in, Jeanne curling around her and feeling her burning, sweaty skin, Mathilde’s hair damp where it rested on her neck. Even after her ordeal she smelled good to Jeanne, a sharp minty smell coming off her slicked skin. Jeanne kissed her shoulder, desperate to taste her one last time, licking the salty sheen off her. The aftertaste of Mathilde’s cum was still in her mouth, and she smiled wondering if she and Mathilde would go to bed together again.

“I’ve never met a woman who...showed me love like that,” Jeanne whispered, kissing Mathilde’s neck. Mathilde, still dazed and heavy, murmured, “I...never thought a woman could make me feel that way,” and she turned to kiss Jeanne’s shoulder. “I‘m…I’m honored you let me pleasure you, Mathilde. The first time can be scary...were you safe?” Jeanne asked. Mathilde giggled and said, “I felt better than I have in years...you made me feel wild and alive. I’m just sad I didn’t have time to make you wet and happy for me.” Jeanne whispered into her ear, “I’m always wet for you,” and she rested her head on Mathilde’s shoulder, both succumbing to sleep, comforted by each other’s warmth.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeanne and Mathilde cuddle and secrets are revealed.

Mathilde awoke when it was dark out, exhaustion from previous sleeplessness and her time of pleasure in the morning allowing her to have slept through the day. Her heart fluttered when she realized she and Jeanne were still naked, a fluffy duvet resting over their intertwined bodies. Jeanne’s arms encircled her stomach, and she felt she had shifted, now draped diagonally across Jeanne. As Jeanne breathed slowly, Mathilde realized her head was resting on Jeanne’s chest, causing her to rise and fall with Jeanne’s inhales and exhales. Her body curved, curled up, so her right ribs were against Jeanne’s stomach, Jeanne’s thigh fitting perfectly in the curve of her waist, her legs stretching away but Jeanne’s foot hooked around her ankle.

Mathilde, still weary, stretched out her arms and blushed when her fingertips accidentally brushed the silky skin of Jeanne’s cheek. Indeed, this seemed to wake Jeanne, for Mathilde heard a small sigh and her voice whisper, “Mathilde?” Mathilde felt guilty and blushed more as she murmured, “Yes?” “I was just checking if you were awake,” Jeanne said. “I can’t even see you...how long did we sleep?” Mathilde giggled and slid into the crook of Jeanne’s shoulder, Jeanne’s breast brushing the side of her upper arm. “Jeanne...we slept through the day. After what we did this morning, it was…” “Fantastic,” Jeanne said, her finger starting a distracted circular stroking on the side of Mathilde’s waist, a way for her to think as Mathilde asked, “Jeanne, I’ve always wondered, how did you know you felt this way about women? You seem to know so much.” Jeanne sighed heavily, her breath ruffling Mathilde’s hair. There was the rustle of fabric, a scratch, and a candle was lit, bathing the two in a rippling orange glow. Mathilde looked up at Jeanne, whose eyes were shiny, staring at the ceiling. “J?” she whispered, slightly concerned.

Jeanne turned to face her. “It’s a story. May I play with your hair as I tell it?” Mathilde giggled and Jeanne pulled all her hair out from under her back, laying it across her chest. Her fingers started to run through Mathilde’s tight curls, unwinding the tangles. “I was in the final year of academy. A new teacher was teaching science-Mm. Souchon. She was young, twenty three, and I was eighteen, only 5 years apart.” Mathilde’s breath caught, and she whispered, “Jeanne, did you…kiss-“ “No, no, but...I noticed how I always... noticed her. I got distracted by her legs in skirts, occasionally stared at her breasts in class, and always watched her lips move when she spoke, for she never forgot to wear red or pink lipstick. I had an infatuation. And I was scared, because I didn’t know why I liked a woman like that. I knew what it was, but... couldn’t believe I had it.” Jeanne paused to take a shaky breath, and Mathilde took the hand resting on her waist and stroked each knuckle, saying, “I’m sorry…” Jeanne cleared her throat and said, “I trusted her though. She always talked to me after class about my work, and I used any excuse to talk to her…I finally worked up the courage. I knew I could be hit with the ruler, ignored by her, perhaps reported to the priest, but I asked if she knew anything about them...les homosexuels. She said...they were great people, just as sweet and deserving as regular people.”

Mathilde swallowed thickly, her heart fluttering. She never knew about Jeanne’s past, and she felt content as Jeanne tugged her hair gently and shared with her. “She gave me articles she had cut out about attraction to the same ones, mostly about what it even was. She talked to me more and more, and I knew...I accepted it. I was a lesbienne, doomed to fall for women for the rest of my life. I told her, and she...she gave me this look, like she knew it would be okay. Like she knew I would find someone, she knew I would be happy with myself. I started to cry, wailing about how I would be hunted and executed and how I would never find someone, for people did not tell others if they had this secret. I now know that she had a wife in secret, and finding me made her realize people still can find themselves.” Mathilde heard sniffling and rolled over, facing Jeanne. A tear was rolling down Jeanne’s cheek as her eyes focused on nothing in the dark above them, and she whispered, “Mm. Souchon and her wife were executed last May. I always feared that when I knew I was falling for you. She...she promised me I wouldn’t die...but she forgot about herself...” Mist covered her sapphire irises, and Mathilde felt tears sting her own eyes as she murmured, “Jeanne...do not cry. Please, darling, you don’t deserve it.” Mathilde used her thumb to wipe the tear away, smiling softly. “You found someone. I will stay with you, always. I will care. You are so kind, Jeanne. Your laugh makes my heart burn, and makes me want to laugh as well.” That very same laugh spilled out of Jeanne and she said, “Thank you Mathilde...I am so grateful for you, and I will love you forever.”

Mathilde smiled, and the two women held each other for a while as the candlelight slowly dimmed, growing shorter and shorter. They started to breath in sync, holding each other’s bare skin and just looking, looking into the others eyes and smiling. As Jeanne snuck glances at Mathilde’s breasts, a thought came to her, and she rolled away to light another candle, the light flickering across their faces. “Mathilde...this morning, in bed.” “....Yes?” Mathilde turned pink as she remembered the feeling of Jeanne inside her, between her thighs, the way she licked her and the way her cum soaked Jeanne’s fingers. “Tildy...that was your first time in bed with a woman?” Mathilde nodded shyly, not meeting Jeanne’s eyes, worried Jeanne would judge. Jeanne was feeling worry too, and she said, “Was I...good enough?” Mathilde laughed out loud and Jeanne pouted, poking her stomach and making her laugh harder. “It isn’t funny!” Jeanne cried, but Mathilde continued to giggle, her body shaking against Jeanne’s. “Jeanne, why were you so afraid? You are perfect at everything you do to make me happy. I was the first timer in that situation anyways.”

Jeanne looped her fingers into Mathilde’s hair and said, “I just...you’re the first woman who cares for me back as I do, and who wants to make sure I’m okay.” Mathilde grinned and whispered, “Of course, JJ.” Jeanne blushed at the nickname and said, “If I was your first, how did you know?” Mathilde smirked and said, “Because of that forsaken necklace. When I went to you to ask for it, you had grown so much...you were taller, skinnier...and these were larger,” she said, stroking the curve of one of Jeanne’s breasts. “I thought, she had become so beautiful, and I remembered...in younger academy, I thought you were so pretty...I dismissed it, but the moment was when you put the necklace on. We had talked for a while, and I was so flustered by your gorgeous ways, and then suddenly, you were helping me with what I needed. When you clasped the necklace around me, your fingers brushed against my skin and I got these tingles all over. You did this…” Mathilde stretched one arm up and dragged two of her fingers across Jeanne’s throat, feeling Jeanne swallow. “You made me feel warm and giddy,” Mathilde continued, and her fingers continued to glide against Jeanne’s throat. Absentmindedly, she put her other hand between Jeanne’s breasts, sliding her fingertips down Jeanne’s chest to her stomach, lost in the memory.

She wasn’t looking at Jeanne, staring into space, but Jeanne watched her. As Mathilde talked, her eyes lit up with a shine Jeanne had only seen once. Her eyes shone like that when Jeanne had been inside her, watching her pleasure grow. She felt her chest grow warm and tried to suppress it. _You just had intercourse!_ She tried to focus on Mathilde’s words, but Mathilde’s fingertips dipped across her belly button and she shivered. Her heart started to beat faster, and she suppressed it as Mathilde said, “I wanted you to touch me again, but was sure you wouldn’t. I was scared you’d think me a freak. But then...all of this, and then you spread me apart, and I realized I had all I wanted, I had—“ Mathilde stopped when something poked her arm.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathilde tries her hand at sexual pleasure.

Mathilde shifted her gaze and saw Jeanne’s nipple, taught and erect, the brown skin smooth.   
Mathilde looked up to Jeanne, who blushed. “Tildy, I’m sorry, please, continue—“ “Don’t be sorry.” Mathilde slid her palm under the large breast, cupping it as she lifted it to her mouth. She wrapped her lips around the large, hard tip and started to suck it rhythmically, loving the feeling of the tight mound between her lips. Jeanne sighed and Mathilde drew back. She stuck out her tongue and pressed the tip against the bottom of Jeanne’s curve, deliberately sliding it up over the curve, stopping at the nipple and licking around it in a circle, before placing the flat of her tongue against the erect mound and running the entire length of her tongue over it. 

Jeanne murmured, “Oh, Tildy, wow...you…” Mathilde grinned and placed her finger on her lips. “It’s my turn. Shhh. I only want to hear you moan.” Jeanne’s eyes widened as she realized Mathilde intended on pleasuring her fully. Mathilde sucked the hard point harder, before poking the very tip with the tip of her tongue. She slid the hand cupping her breast up and pinched the wet mound, saliva running down Jeanne’s stomach, causing Jeanne to tilt her head back and groan. Mathilde leaned up and kissed Jeanne deeply, licking her. “Jeanne, I owe you this.” Jeanne giggled and Mathilde tilted her head down, towards Jeanne’s other breast. 

This nipple stood firm and erect as well, and Jeanne gave a cry as Mathilde took it between her teeth and tugged, grinning. She shifted under it to get a better angle, and Jeanne slid over her, kneeling with one leg on either side of Mathilde’s hips. She leaned her torso downward and Mathilde squeezed her breast, pulling it into her mouth to suck her hard nipple, her tongue licking it back and forth. Jeanne’s chest tightened feeling Mathilde’s warm mouth on her breast. Her nipples were slick, and as Mathilde gave a particularly forceful suck, Jeanne’s body heated up as her vagina became slick as well. Jeanne shivered as Mathilde’s hand grabbed her other breast, rolling it and squeezing her wet nipple. Her chest grew hot, blood rushing in ears with her slamming heartbeat.

Mathilde was her first real love, and the first one she wanted to have deep inside her. Mathilde’s lips parted, leaving her nipples bare in the soft candlelight. Jeanne leaned down to kiss Mathilde again, and her wet mounds slid over Mathilde’s cheeks, the hard tips brushing her face. Mathilde kissed her lips softly, but Jeanne was already on fire, and her mouth felt hotter with the slightest touch.

Mathilde pinched her nipple and Jeanne arched her back, saying, “Tildy, darling, I’m ready for you….” Her thighs were wet, waiting to be pleasured, and Mathilde grinned. Jeanne’s stomach swooped as she slid forward on her knees until they fit into the crooks of Mathilde’s shoulders. She kneeled up straight, so her vagina trembled over Mathilde’s face. Her chest was tight and she started to sweat, waiting for Mathilde. 

Mathilde’s finger landed on the place where her buttocks met her vagina. Jeanne jolted and groaned, and Mathilde drew her finger up through Jeanne’s folds slowly. It slipped easily through her soft labia, as Jeanne grew wetter with desire, her vagina burning hot as her stomach tightened with anticipation. She wanted Mathilde to taste her, to taste a woman. Mathilde reached her hole and slid in slowly, causing Jeanne to gasp with pleasure. She slid in to her knuckle and Jeanne loved the feeling of her as she slid out.

Jeanne felt she would reach the edge tonight. She needed Mathilde to give it to her, needed it badly, wanted it. Her forehead beaded with sweat as Mathilde rubbed inside her again. When she was as deep as she could go, she twisted, rubbing Jeanne’s tender inside. Jeanne arched her back and bit her lip to stop a growl from escaping her. Mathilde slid out punishingly slow, but when she re-entered it was with two fingers, and she rubbed in and out faster. Jeanne thrust her hips down onto Mathilde’s pumping motions, riding her fingers as tension built. Mathilde’s thumb pressed on her clitoris and she felt ripples of heat, her vagina tightening around Mathilde’s fingers. Mathilde massaged her clitoris in fast circles, rubbing it around and around until it was swollen and red, pulsing as Jeanne moaned in ecstasy. 

“Taste me, Tildy, I won’t last much longer.” Jeanne’s core was hot and she felt close to the clouds, almost reaching heaven. She moaned loudly as Mathilde gripped her buttocks with both hands, pulling her down onto her face. She was sitting on Mathilde’s chest, her thighs touching Mathilde’s cheeks. Mathilde licked inside her thigh first, and Jeanne sighed shakily as Mathilde nibbled her skin. She finally reached Jeanne’s soaking vulva and licked it softly, her tongue like hot velvet against Jeanne’s skin. Jeanne flushed as Mathilde pushed her tongue over her drenched labia, sucking in all the moisture from her skin. 

Mathilde sighed deeply feeling the sweet taste of Jeanne’s vagina in her mouth. It wasn’t what she expected, not gross like a small fear she had had in the back of her head. She wanted more, and she saw Jeanne’s throbbing nub. She poked it with the tip of her tongue and Jeanne jerked against her, groaning. Mathilde closed her lips around it and sucked it, surrounding the swollen clitoris with her mouth. She licked it in slow circles and Jeanne pulsed against her, her nub hot inside Mathilde’s mouth. “Tildy, please, I’m close, I need it…” Mathilde stopped and Jeanne whined, but it turned into a guttural wail as Mathilde’s teeth nibbled her clitoris gently.

She was already starting to soar when Mathilde’s tongue penetrated her, thrusting into her slippery hole. That was the last straw, and she screamed, “Oh, Mathilde!” Jeanne’s spine curved back wildly as she nearly fell off Mathilde, gasping heavily as a storm brewed inside. The room disappeared, and she closed her eyes against the joy that made every nerve in her body tingle, her skin hot. 

Her chest was tight as she moaned, the heat spiking as her muscles inside clenched tight around Mathilde’s shallow penetration. She thrust her hips, forcing Mathilde’s tongue deeper as she started to shake. Mathilde withdrew her tongue and placed her upper lip on Jeanne’s sensitive, red nub. It pulsed against her as she opened her mouth around Jeanne’s slick area, the sides of her lips brushing Jeanne’s folds. She wanted to taste her achievements, to taste a female’s desires, to taste the woman who she knew she was falling deeply for.

Her lip resting on Jeanne’s clitoris shoved her higher, and the pleasure reached its peak as Jeanne arched her back and grabbed Mathilde’s arms, gripping them for balance as she trembled in ecstasy. The joy burst and she came, sweat misting on her breasts as she gasped, “God, Tildy!” and her eyelashes fluttered.   
Mathilde felt Jeanne shift above her and she gripped her hips, holding her right against her mouth. Jeanne’s cum gushed into her mouth thickly, the burning liquid filling Mathilde with the sweet, irresistible taste of her. She shivered knowing she caused this, and she swallowed it, her throat wet and hot. More cum flowed into her throat, and she sighed, rubbing her tongue into Jeanne. This prolonged Jeanne’s pleasure, and she bucked forward, her mind blank. The woman underneath her had flown her to the sky, and she felt untamed as she shivered, the intense heat dimming as she started to finish. 

Mathilde thought it was over and started to pull away, but a final, thin stream spurted onto her lips. She licked it away and caught the last drops of it as Jeanne panted, curling over and resting her head on Mathilde’s as everything between her thighs throbbed, her chest still tight. “Mathilde,” she croaked, and she rolled off her, crashing into the bed beneath. 

Her legs felt boneless and numb as she quaked on the bed, closing her eyes and hearing Mathilde murmur, “Jeanne...you tasted so sweet, I never wanted to stop drinking every last drop…” Jeanne opened her eyes and smiled softly, meeting Mathilde’s hungry gaze. She reached between her thighs and ran her fingers softly through her pink labia, gathering the remaining moisture. She held out her hand and shuddered as Mathilde licked the cum off her fingertips, just like Jeanne had that very morning.   
Jeanne smiled, too weak to speak, and she nestled into her pillow as Mathilde leaned over and kissed her forehead, brushing the strands of Jeanne’s sweat-soaked hair off her face. “I’m going to make us some dinner, delectable lady.” Mathilde slipped off the bed and pulled on her nightgown, stopping in the door. “I love you.” Jeanne’s chest flushed warm again and she gazed at Mathilde, caught in the flickering orange light. 

“I love you too,” she whispered, wiping sweat from her forehead. Mathilde smiled and walked away, leaving Jeanne staring at the empty doorway, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to get up and clean herself, dry herself to put on a dress for dinner, but she was too exhausted and flushed, and her heavy eyelids fluttered, taking her to sleep with a big smile on her face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terrifying encounters leave Mathilde reeling.

When Jeanne woke, the sun was high, rays of sunlight stabbing through the glass of the window. Mathilde was curled up next to her, breathing slowly, one of Jeanne’s nightgowns draped on her skin. Jeanne realized she was still naked and blushed deeply, wondering what she had missed since she fell asleep...after what they did last night. She stretched, yawning, and noticed a small bowl filled with raspberries, the cream and sugar sprinkled over the berries starting to coalesce into chunks. A piece of folded parchment next to it said, “I didn’t want to wake you. -M.” Jeanne smiled and plucked a raspberry from the bowl, smiling as the sugar melted onto her tongue. She sat up and leaned on her headboard, watching Mathilde sleep. Her chest rose and fell, and her cheek was nestled against her hand. The strands of hair on her face fluttered upwards from her exhalations, dancing like princesses before drifting back down to rest across her cheek. After time had drifted by, Jeanne decided to get on with her day. She did not have work today, but she had a jewel consultation with her friend’s governess tomorrow. Oh, goodness. Mathilde has to stay in our room. Jeanne grimaced as she slid out of bed quietly, Mathilde’s breaths filling the silence of the room. 

As she reached the closet, she felt a smile creeping over her face. You thought of it as our room. She’s really here to stay. Jeanne looked back across her room as she pulled on her undergarments, smiling softly. Mathilde groaned and flopped over, her arm flung to the side now and her head lilting to the side of her pillow. Jeanne finished dressing in a tight v-neck red blouse tucked inside a floor length grey chiffon skirt, trying to tread lightly as she left the room, looking back one last time at Mathilde, who was spread over her pillow and Jeanne’s at this point.

Jeanne made her way to the kitchen, getting out and slicing a baguette. She thought of the city center market, the fresh cheeses to eat with the bread….now that Mathilde was fully healed, they could go together and get honeys and herbs, maybe fresh hunts to make a stew...with a pang, Jeanne thought of her son. He loved to go hunting. Maybe now he actually can. It had been a month or two since Mathilde and Jeanne first kissed, and a little less since she sent him to live with his father in the countryside. He wasn’t a bad man, Jeanne knew, but he had actually ended it because he felt unattracted to her emotionally, which she supposed was her fault. She had created distance, trying to make their marriage a disguise for something he didn’t even know about. And sure, Jeanne felt guilty about sending her son away, but his father had expressed desires of stayed summers in letters past, and she needed Mathilde. She knew it was selfish, but after her life of hiding, didn’t she deserve something for herself?

And Mathilde didn’t even know what she had saved Jeanne from, the darkness that haunted Jeanne’s lonely sleeping, the thoughts of her life having no point, that she was different, wrong, unlovable, the considerations of taking her own heartbeat. Mathilde made her want to stay, to give Mathilde a place to be herself...and ultimately, to give her a companion and someone to help, for the last thing she wanted was for someone to think like her because of who they loved. She blinked at her suddenly watering eyes and shook her head, vowing to not let herself think about it anymore. You know he loves you. You will always be his mother. And she loves you. Jeanne was about to pick up the knife when Mathilde wrapped her arms around her stomach, the smell of her skin filling Jeanne’s nose. “Good morning, Mathilde,” Jeanne whispered, turning in Mathilde’s arms. Mathilde smiled silently and rested her head on Jeanne’s chest, sighing. 

Jeanne stroked her hair and said, “Would you want to go to the market with me?” Mathilde nodded slowly, but then said, “Jeanne...I was just thinking, I have no clothes. Besides the dress I showed up here in, I have been wearing only your nightgowns...and my dress is not suitable, it has been soiled with blood and such dirty things.” Jeanne nodded, pursing her lips in thought. “Well, looks as if we are going to the tailor.” Mathilde’s face collapsed and her eyes widened, and she tapped her hand on Jeanne’s shoulder insistently. “No, no, no, no, Jeanne, no, don’t waste your money on me...you can’t, please, I’m not worth it…” Jeanne shushed her with a slender finger, shaking her head. “Mathilde, you...live with me now. Money I make..it’s for us.” Mathilde sniffled and snuggled her head into Jeanne’s chest again, whispering, “Thank you, Jeanne...thank you.” Jeanne smiled and kissed her hair, closing her eyes and breathing in Mathilde’s scent, the two women cradling each other in the kitchen. 

Pattering raindrops were streaking to the ground when the two stepped out of Jeanne’s home, Mathilde in a borrowed dress that hung off her frame slightly. Children shrieked and ran through puddles, and women ejected their parasols to protect themselves. Mathilde let the rain fall on her face and grinned, breathing in the smell of the heavy sky and wet stones. After being too injured to leave Jeanne’s home for weeks, being outside felt wonderful. As the thought occurred, flashes of images careened in her head. Why she was shut in for so long. She was standing in the room over her broken body, blood pooling from her face. He was saying, I hope that salope Jeanne never comes, because I’ll end her. She was running down these streets, wiping blood and tears away...Mathilde looked around at all the men walking in the rain and stumbled back, her spine hitting the brick wall. She couldn’t breathe, rain clogging her throat, as the men closed in, contorted sneers on their faces...She felt a hand on her wrist and she screamed, yanking her hand away, looking up to meet Jeanne’s eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. Passerby gave them frowns and raised eyebrows as they passed, Mathilde’s breaths calming down as she clutched her chest, trying to clear her head. “Mathilde...what happened?” Mathilde swallowed and muttered, “I remembered my husband...he wants to kill you, if he sees us together, he’ll…” Mathilde couldn’t bear the thought and started to weep silently, tears mixing with rain on her cheeks. 

Jeanne stood next to her in silence, letting Mathilde cry. She didn’t know what to say, finally deciding on, “He can’t harm us in public. He’d be arrested. Besides, my tailor is...upper class…” she blushed, not wanting to brag to Mathilde, but continued, “I doubt he’d go there.” Mathilde shuddered and kept crying, choking on her tears. Jeanne stepped in front of her, stroking her cheek. Mathilde’s eyes darted around and she pushed Jeanne’s hand away. “We’re still in public.” Jeanne nodded, but kept her hand on Mathilde’s wrist. “If he comes near you again, Tildy, I will fight him or get him arrested. Nothing will ever cause you this much pain again.” She glanced around her and quickly wiped Mathilde’s tears away. “Come with me Mathilde. Experience Paris.” Mathilde sniffled, and she followed Jeanne somberly, still somewhat lost in thought. She watched her reflections in the puddle, still terrified. He could be around any corner. What can Jeanne truly do if he attacks me again? What if he’s...looking for us? She bumped into Jeanne’s back and murmured a “Sorry,” as Jeanne opened a dark green door into the small brick building at the end of the street. Mathilde wiped her eyes and drew breath as she stepped into the tailor behind Jeanne. The room was cavernous to Mathilde, obviously one place taking up the two floors of the building with no separation. Dresses, blouses, skirts, corsets, suits, pants, heels and dress shoes plastered the walls in racks, organized by color. “Good morning, Jeanne, how may I assist?” said a young brunette behind the desk. She was easily under 16. “Ah, hello Heloise! Is your mother away?” The girl, who Mathilde now knew was Heloise, nodded.

“Well, tell her I say bonjour. I actually need to purchase a sizeable wardrobe for my lov...friend.” Heloise started to flip through a box of parchment, but Jeanne said, “Actually, she hasn’t been here, so her sizes are not on file.” Heloise looked Mathilde up and down, her eyes landing on the fabric pooling on her arms. “I see, we shall fit her right away.” Jeanne nodded and said, “I am purchasing her one Madame Tallien dress in every color, ten Beauharnais blouses, ten Récamier skirts, and twelve Germaine de Staël corsets.” Mathilde felt tears pricking her eyes as Jeanne let Heloise write down all the items. She recognized those names, the prestigious designers she used to imagine wearing, and now, Jeanne must be throwing away a fortune for her to do so. She opened her mouth, but Jeanne silenced her with a glare and said, “Go with Heloise, I shall wait here.” She moved in to kiss Mathilde, and Mathilde panicked, catching Heloise in the corner of her vision. She shifted to the side and pulled Jeanne into a hug, which any friend would do. Jeanne stiffened against her, realizing her mistake, and she drew away, not meeting Mathilde’s eyes. Mathilde watched her eyes glisten as she walked away into the second room of the tailor, following the young woman in front of her. The next hour was spent standing still as Heloise drew measuring tape around her body, in what seemed like every location possible. It was spent squeezing into a dress too small, skirts being pinned and elongated, until the only thing left was the corsets. 

Heloise called into the front room, “Madame, which style of corset will you be purchasing?” Jeanne appeared in the door and said, “Siréne.” Heloise nodded and returned with a black corset, the exact length of Mathilde’s torso. She was about to ask Mathilde to undress when the bells on the door jingled out a merry tune. “Jeanne, do you mind fitting your friend?” Heloise rushed out to meet the newest customer, leaving Jeanne alone, gazing at Mathilde in her bra and a new grey skirt. “Well, well, looks like it’s just us,” she whispered, and she reached to pull Mathilde’s bra off, revealing her petite breasts. Mathilde grinned, and she pulled Jeanne into a kiss, her lips parting to allow access for Jeanne’s tongue, when she heard Heloise’s voice and pushed Jeanne away. “Sorry, J...it’s too public.” She grabbed the corset from Jeanne’s hands and untied it, placing it over her breasts and wrapping it around, waiting for Jeanne to tie it on her. Jeanne tightened the laces and the corset pulled on Mathilde’s ribs, cutting off her exhalations. “ah...Jeanne, I can’t...breathe….” “A size too small then,” Jeanne chuckled, and she moved to untie the strings. 

Her fingers on Mathilde’s bare skin made Mathilde shiver, and Jeanne felt the small woman quake against her. “You like that, Tildy?” Jeanne murmured, and Mathilde blushed, whispering, “Yes...but Jeanne….” “Then maybe you’ll like this.” Jeanne undid the top laces, and, leaving the corset mostly on, pulled the front away to kiss the swell of Mathilde’s breasts, causing a shaky, whispered moan to escape her lips. “Jeanne-” she was cut off as Jeanne nibbled her skin lightly, and she closed her mouth tight to stop from groaning aloud. “Thank you, Heloise, I’ll-” The male voice cut off abruptly as Jeanne tried to dart away, but it was too late. Both Jeanne and Mathilde slowly looked towards the man in the doorframe, the man’s icy glaring at the two women, the man who had once been wed to Mathilde. Mathilde’s blood ran cold and she felt paralyzed, rooted to the ground in nothing but a skirt and half open corset. “No,” she whispered, “no, no...no, it...no…” Tears started to run down her cheeks as her husband’s mouth contorted into a dark sneer, his eyes consumed by something that terrified Mathilde to her core. “Please,” she murmured, but it was barely a whisper. Jeanne looked at Mathilde and stepped up to him, saying, “So you’re the man that did this to my Tildy.” “Tildy?!” Mr. Loisel roared, spit flecking Jeanne’s cheeks. “You filthy, rotten putain, walking around with your lover. You dare show her...kissing you?” 

Mathilde stammered, “No, I...just don’t…” Mr. Loisel shoved Jeanne to the ground, and Mathilde cried out, “Jeanne!” Her attention snapped to her husband stalking towards her, and she stumbled backwards, bumping into the wall. “Please, no, please…” Jeanne felt tears prickle her eyes as Mathilde sobbed silently, too scared to even touch him. He raised his hand and slammed his fist into Mathilde’s skull, causing Mathilde to scream and clutch her head, her body sinking to the ground. The scream, however, summoned Heloise, who said, “What is going on?!” The man turned to her and yelled, “I shall never purchase your goods, you serve the homosexuels!” He stormed away, and Jeanne crawled to Mathilde, cradling her body. Mathilde was sobbing, trying to catch her breath, clutching her hair. “Shh, he’s gone…” Jeanne kissed Mathilde’s head and heard a small gasp, realizing Heloise was there. “Heloise...please, do not tell anyone about me.” Heloise gulped and turned, walking away. “Oh god…” Jeanne murmured, sinking against the wall. She held Mathilde close and stroked her hair before helping her up and dressing her. As she left, she wrote the check and said, “Please deliver our garments to my house.” She and Mathilde were silent on the way home, and when they were safe in the entrance, Jeanne asked, “Mathilde, you must rest, let us go to bed.”

“Jeanne, I...would not like to sleep right now.” “But, Mathilde, after what happened-” “After what you did, you mean.” Mathilde could not stop the insult from flying out, but out it came. “What?” Jeanne said, turning to face Mathilde. Mathilde was curled against the wall, wiping her tears away. “It was your recklessness that caused us to get hurt.” “My recklessness? You were the one who told him about us!” Mathilde blanched at her words and said, “How dare you say that? You know I would never, you know he forced me! And, you supposedly knew about my fear of being caught and executed, yet here you are, kissing me in public?” “Well, I apologize for trying to love you! Does everything we have done mean nothing?” Jeanne yelled, her voice cracking with sadness. “If it gets me killed, yes!” Mathilde fired back, choking on tears. “Well then, I take it back! I should have never brought you to my tailor anyways!” Mathilde’s tears bubbled over and she yelled, “Why, because I’m not good enough for your riches?” Jeanne’s mouth fell open and her cheeks burned, tears rolling slowly down to her lips. “Mathilde, you know it was never about the money…” “Indeed? Then why did you insist on purchasing me all those fancy clothes in the first place? Why not let me pick my own clothing?” “I...wanted you to live like me, because-” “Because you’d be too embarrassed with a common folk? I understand.” The front door slammed as Mathilde ran into the street, storming away into the city.

Jeanne slumped onto her couch and sobbed, her throat already aching. Why was Mathilde so irritable? But she realized she couldn’t put all the blame on her. She is scarred by what her husband did. I still do not know completely what went on...Jeanne sniffled out a sob and curled up, bringing her knees to her chest. I should apologize...but she also insulted me, assuming I was so shallow...I shall wait for her to return, and we can discuss, for where shall she go? Indeed, hours later, Mathilde came back whilst Jeanne was changing for bed, although not in the way Jeanne expected. When the knock came, she came to the door, apology prepared, and instead saw Heloise, supporting a pale, half-asleep Mathilde, Heloise’s eyes wide. Jeanne took Mathilde into her arms, and Heloise said, “She was sick in the alley, and I do not know if...what is said about you is true, but I knew you would care for her…” Jeanne smiled grimly and Heloise turned and left, as Jeanne pulled Mathilde inside and held her, saying, “Tildy, are you okay?” Mathilde’s eyes fluttered and she nodded sluggishly, saying, “I was walking, trying to get away...I walked for hours it seemed and it just...made me…” She coughed, feeling the sting of acid in her throat, and said, “Water closet.” Jeanne carried her quickly and Mathilde spilled out of her arms over the toilet, heaving as she expelled more bile from her body. “Mathilde?” Jeanne whispered, as Mathilde slumped over the toilet, struggling to keep her eyes open. Mathilde groaned and said, “I was overcome by fatigue and could not walk much longer, and then I became sick...and Heloise found me.” Jeanne nodded, feeling tears prickle her eyes. “Listen, Mathilde…..I’m sorry I yelled. I didn’t mean…” Mathilde nodded weakly, resting her head on Jeanne’s chest. “I...know. I need...need...to sleep.” Mathilde turned and vomited into the toilet again, and Jeanne cradled her, saying, “Mathilde, I am worried…” Mathilde’s head rested heavily on Jeanne and she said, “Just...let me...rest. I’m sure...I’m just getting...flashbacks. I’ll be well soon.” Jeane nodded and let Mathilde rest on her all the way to the bedroom, the two falling asleep in each others arms, cracks sealed, for now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bombshell secret rocks the lives of Jeanne and Mathilde.

Mathilde woke in a puddle of sweat, her cheeks burning. She had fallen asleep in her dress and now, the velvet clung to her sticky skin like water, her skin on fire underneath the fabric. Sweat was creating rivulets like tears down her cheeks, dripping on her neck and condensing under her hairline. She gasped for breath, but her chest and skin burned, the room suffocating her with its heat, her eyes heavy with the effort of fighting it. She sat up, her head spinning as blood rushed to her head. She managed to pull her dress off, but her limbs felt heavy and weak, and she wanted to sleep, exhausted, her skin not much cooler even after removing her clothes. Her heart was pounding and the room was getting blurry, sweat dripping in her eyes and causing her to wipe her skin frantically, the heat choking her throat. She yanked the sheets and duvet off her, but the forceful action caused her stomach to churn and her head fell, resting on her knees in an effort to make it stop. It didn’t stop, and when she felt a flipping sensation, she stumbled to the water closet in the dark, kneeling before the toilet, choking and coughing as she expunged more bile and vomit from her throat. She slumped against the wall, letting the wood cool her still burning skin, breathing rapidly to catch her breath. Moving from the bedroom here made her unbearably tired, and she rested her head against the wall, lolling to the side as her heavy eyes closed.

Jeanne woke to find the bed beside her empty, and she sat straight up, fumbling out of the sheets. “Mathilde?” she called, but there was no response, and she felt panic sieze her. “Mathilde?!” she yelled louder, running to the door of her room, stopping when blue caught her eye. Mathilde’s dress was tossed on the floor, crumpled in a heap. Jeanne’s heart raced and her cheeks burned as she thought of kidnapping, Mathilde’s husband...Outside her room, the door to the water closet was ajar, and the foul stench of vomit hit her nose like a train. She slid inside and saw Mathilde, curled against the wall in her undergarments, bile swimming in the toilet. Jeanne flushed it with a grimace and kneeled by Mathilde, shaking her lightly. “Mathilde? What happened? Are you alright?” Mathilde’s eyes fluttered open and she grabbed Jeanne’s arms, breathing heavily. “I woke and...it was like fire, Jeanne, my skin…” “Like a fever?” Mathilde swallowed and nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Mathilde...do you think you are sick?” Mathilde nodded slowly, saying “I suppose, but I do not know how I would have fallen ill.” Jeanne nodded, pursing her lips. “I am sorry, Mathilde, but I have a consultation today...do you mind staying in our room?”

Mathilde shook her head slowly, saying, “I honestly think I shall sleep more, I am exhausted.” Jeanne grabbed her arms and lightly lifted her up, carrying her to the bedroom. She slid Mathilde under the duvet and kissed her, lifting her sweaty hair off her forehead. Mathilde’s eyes were closed before her head even hit the pillow, and Jeanne sat on the bed, watching her sleep. _She has been sick since yesterday...I could go to the doctor and ask for a diagnosis, but...will she want to? She might get better. I-_ Jeanne’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock, and she realized the governess was here for a consultation. She quickly dressed and led the governess to her jewel cabinet, chatting the afternoon away distractedly, sneaking glances towards the bedroom door, which remained closed. When the governess had finally left, Jeanne opened the door. Mathilde was sitting on the windowsill, fully dressed, gazing at the hustle and bustle of the city. Jeanne said, “Tildy? Are you feeling better?” Mathilde turned and walked over to her, smiling. “Much better, I must have been off from our encounter.” Jeanne nodded, frowning, and Mathilde wrapped her arms around her, eneveloping her in a deep kiss. When their lips parted, Mathilde whispered, “Really, I’m better.” Jeanne grinned and kissed her again, whispering against her lips, “Good.” The next morning, Jeanne was woken by movement, and she opened bleary eyes to see Mathilde stumbling out of bed around the corner. Still tired, Jeanne lay there, but her eyes opened wide when she heard the sounds of vomiting, Mathilde coughing with a raspy throat and then, the sound of muffled crying. She was about to get up when she heard footsteps in the hall, and she quickly closed her eyes, pretending to sleep as she felt Mathilde slide back into the bed next to her.

When the sun woke them both that morning, she rolled over to Mathilde and said, “Are you feeling better, darling? No more illness?” Mathilde nodded, kissing Jeanne’s nose. Jeanne felt her blood turn cold at Mathilde lying to her, for some reason. “You are certain? It has all gone away?” Mathilde shifted a little in bed but still nodded, curling tight against Jeanne. “Really, Mathilde? You are alright?” There was silence, and then Mathilde started to shake against Jeanne, with what Jeanne realized were sobs. “No, Tildy...don’t cry, I did not mean to make you upset….” Mathilde sniffled and said, “I just...every day since this started I thought I was better, but in the nights and early mornings the sickness comes back...what is wrong with me?” She sobbed aloud, tears staining Jeanne’s skin as Mathilde huddled against her. Jeanne noticed her skin was very, very warm to the touch, almost unnaturally so. “Well...would you like to see a doctor?” Mathilde shook her head, saying “I do not want to go outside again...I do not wish to be sick in public or run...run into him again.” Jeanne nodded and stroked her hair, saying, “I am sure you will heal.” The morning after, Jeanne found herself helping a dizzy Mathilde to the water closet, holding back her hair as she vomited yet again, silent tears mixing with bile in the toilet. Two evenings later, Mathilde tossed and turned in bed, the air and sheets too warm to be comfortable.

She had insisted to Jeanne that the big bay window remain open, yet she still felt hot, uncomfortably prickly with sweat. _And that’s just one of the many things wrong with me_. Mathilde tried to stifle tears, but they came anyway, and she curled into a ball, tears and sweat combining into salty liquid that coated her temples and cheeks. _Why can I not get better? I just want to stop these feelings...am I being punished by God for being a lesbienne?_ Mathilde wiped her eyes and shook her head, muttering aloud, “No, it is just a fever…” _But a fever that comes in the night, leaving my skin burning? That makes me ill in the mornings and then leaves, but I am exhausted by two yet cannot sleep because of my burning skin?_ Mathilde groaned slightly as her stomach roiled, feeling liquid rising as she hastily walked to the water closet, choking on thick vomit that flowed from her throat. She rubbed her mouth with her hand and made her way slowly back to bed, trying to go slow as to not feel sick again. When she returned, the bed was still stifling hot, the sheets sticking to her skin and causing her to throw them off in anger. She just wanted to be healed, but the room burned her pores, sweat seeping from every inch. She walked over to the bay window, and took off her nightgown, which was stained with sweat marks. She felt odd sitting bare naked in front of an open window, but the room behind her was dark, so how would she be seen?

She pressed her body against the sill, craving the cool wood on her stomach, goosebumps emerging as cool air nestled against her breasts, legs and face, striking some heat away. Pressing her stomach against the wood made it turn, a dull ache pulsing inside her, so she curled up by the window and let the breeze ruffle her hair, shivering as she let her heavy eyes fall closed, victim to the exhaustion that so often plagued her body. Jeanne’s eyes blinked open to an empty bed yet again, and flew out of bed in a panic, her heart rate spiking. She saw Mathilde curled up in the window, sleeping, her breasts curled under her arms and her bare skin catching the sun. Jeanne sat next to her and stroked her cheek, and she groaned, blinking wearily at Jeanne. “Mathilde...why are you naked?” Mathilde had accustomed to waking up and shivered as the cool dawn air hit her skin. She yawned and said, “It was unbearably hot in the room last night...but I feel better.” Jeanne nodded, scooping her off her feet. Mathilde giggled and wrapped her legs around Jeanne, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Jeanne pushed her against the wall and kissed her deeply, parting her rosy lips to let Mathilde in. Mathilde’s nails dug into Jeanne’s neck as she moaned, shivers running down her spine where she was pushed against the wood. She closed her eyes as Jeanne’s hand stroked along her breast, her lips sucking on Mathilde’s neck.

Mathilde opened her eyes to beg Jeanne for more, when she caught the clock on the wall and realized what time it was. “Jeanne...today is the day you need to pick up my garments...Heloise wanted you by morning.” Jeanne glanced at the clock and a growl escaped her throat, surprising Mathilde. “Well...we will continue this later,” Jeanne said, catching Mathilde in a kiss and nibbling her lip. Mathilde felt chills all over her skin as Jeanne put her down, quickly dressing herself. “We should go to the park, and feed the ducks,” Mathilde offered, “when you return.” Jeanne smiled and said, “That would be lovely. See you soon.” Mathilde sat on the bed, braiding her hair while her mind whirled. _She doesn’t know you got sick again...and again, you feel better, but who knows. Maybe fresh air will do you some good. Just take it slow, don’t eat too much. It’ll pass, it has to….it has to._ Mathilde felt tears prickle her eyes and she lay back on the pillow, crying silently. She shuddered with sobs, shaking, her nose running. _I’ve been sick for days. What disease can I possibly have? Maybe I should go to a doctor._ She heard the sound of the door opening and wiped her eyes, sitting up straight in bed. Jeanne came in with a mahogany trunk which she deposited on the ground with a clunk. “Let us see what you look like!” Jeanne chirped, and Mathilde smiled, hopping off the bed and pecking Jeanne’s lips. “Thank you so much, J. I really, really...love you.” Jeanne smiled as Mathilde bent to take a corset out of the box.

Mathilde chose one in a deep green, and placed the front over her stomach and breasts, waving Jeanne over. Jeanne took the sides and wrapped them around, noticing they didn’t cover her back completely. She pulled the lace as tight as she could, but could not tie it securely over her back, the edges of the corset pushing her back into clumps of skin. “Mathilde, I cannot tie it.” “What do you mean?” Mathilde pulled the front as tight as she could over her stomach, but her stomach was pushing on the corset, bending the tight framed fabric. She let go and let it drop to the floor, turning to Jeanne. “Jeanne, it won’t fit here.” Mathilde ran her hands over her stomach, noticing she felt a little pudgier than usual. Jeanne didn’t respond, and when Mathilde glanced up, a tear was rolling down her cheek. “Jeanne?” “Tildy….I think….” Jeanne swallowed and smiled slightly, her eyes shining. “I think you’re pregnant.” Mathilde looked back at her stomach in disbelief. “No, J...I can’t be.” But as she thought about it, she realized. All the brief nausea, the aches in her stomach, the new size of her stomach, the exhaustion...how she no longer enjoyed the creamy asparagus Jeanne made…” Oh, Tildy,” Jeanne said, and she hugged Mathilde, filling her nose with the scent of her hair. “No, Jeanne, this isn’t...this isn’t good.” Jeanne stepped back, her brows furrowed. Mathilde had realized with this newborn fact how it came to be, and she felt sick even thinking about it.

She sat down on the end of the bed and put her head in her hands, her stomach churning. Tears streamed down her face as she remembered the day, the day she woke up in his arms. “Jeanne...I had been abstaining for a while before I even kissed you. The only way….” She swallowed, but didn’t need to finish. Jeanne’s eyes widened and then hardened to steely ice, and she said, “He...he….” she swallowed and choked out, “While you were sleeping?” Mathilde nodded, her heart pounding in her ears. He had taken something that didn’t belong to him, something that would uproot how she and Jeanne would live for the rest of their lives. Mathilde closed her eyes imagining him, lifiting her nightgown as she slept, moving into her, and sobbed aloud, her head aching and her eyes heavy. She cried into the pillow, chest shaking with profound sobs, not stopping when she felt Jeanne slide into bed next to her, cradling her, not stopping when her throat and head stung and ached, not stopping when she had to swallow more bile rising in her throat. _I have to have his baby. What if the child is like him, with a dark side? What if the child reveals to its friends it has two mothers? What if….I die giving birth to it?_ Mathilde groaned and sniffled, choking on tears. “Mathilde….I…I cannot imagine the pain and sickness you must feel. But I would like you to know that I will take care of you and this child...forever. We can move to the countryside and raise it, and I…” Her voice cracked as she remembered her son, who she gave up. _Not gave up. Just...moved on._ She swallowed and said, “I will love it so much, and we’ll raise it...together.” Mathilde sniffled and nodded, curling up against Jeanne. Jeanne hugged her, and the two lay in silence, breathing in sync as they envisioned the future of their child.


End file.
